


Shadow of an Unknown Past

by Jess168



Series: the Auric Chronicles [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Magic, Modern Fantasy, Mystery, Original work - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 118,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27952094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jess168/pseuds/Jess168
Summary: Mariea Rolondo is very aware one’s past can make or break their future. But in a hidden world of magic, things are never so straightforward. When dark whispers of events long forgotten begin to haunt Mariea, she’s left to figure out their origin and meaning or face the consequences of her failure.Meanwhile, Mefune unexpectedly finds himself the leader of a vast organization tasked with protecting the unaware from magical creatures. With secrets of his own to keep and enemies around every turn, he wonders if he’ll have what it takes to keep everything afloat.And when the threat they both face becomes much bigger than ever imagined, will they manage to escape the shadow of their families’ past, or be doomed to repeat it?
Series: the Auric Chronicles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1030244
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	1. Omens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mariea's life begins to take a dark turn as she experiences the first of a series of nightmares she just can't seem to escape...

** Chapter One **

** Omens **

_** Mariea ** _

_Mariea didn’t know where she was. She didn’t recognize her surroundings at all, and she couldn’t remember how she had ended up there. All she knew it was very, very dark, and the air was heavy with moisture and a metallic sent she couldn’t place. She shivered, hugging her arms to her body to fight away the cold that seemed much more than just the temperature. It seemed to seep into her soul, chilling her deep inside. She wanted to leave. Desperately so. But with no idea how or where to go, she found herself paralyzed by the fear._

_When she heard a noise behind her, she jumped, certain it would be some sort of beast coming to end her. But when she turned, she saw a man who she didn’t recognize. He simply stared at her, something about his gaze unnerving her. It just looked…off. He was looking right at her, but not really seeing, his eyes slightly glazed over. He was only visible to her because of the faint glow of his aura that surrounded him. It cast erratic shadows as it flickered and shifted, partially obscuring her vision._

_Deciding there was a chance the gloomy place wouldn’t be so bad if she could see better, she brought her own aura to light, surrounding herself in the familiar aqua blue glow. She gathered some in her hand and raised it, and it grew brighter, turning white as she muttered a simple word to turn it into a spell. The orb floated just above her head, illuminating her surroundings._

_Suddenly, she wished desperately for the darkness as she looked around her. There were bodies, everywhere, in a thousand different states of decay and dismemberment. Some were quite fresh. That was the smell. Blood. She began shaking violently, her breath rattling through her body as her hands slowly raised to cover her mouth. She glanced back to the man, wanting to see his reaction, and wondering if that was why his expression was so blank._

_“Mariea, don’t!” A voice yelled behind her. She glanced back, noticing Bracken approaching her through the sea of bodies. His face was ashen—clearly he hadn’t missed their surroundings—but he fought to reach her anyway._

_“But, what about him?” She wondered, turning back to the man slowly._

_“Don’t, it’s dangerous!” Bracken called. It, not him. What could he possibly mean by that?_

_When she faced the stranger again, she realized he had moved several steps closer while she had been distracted. The harsh white light of her spell cast away the shadows that had previously hidden his face, yet none of it reflected in his eyes._ _He was sickly pale, like he belonged with the corpses at their feet more so than the living. When he reached out a hand towards Mariea, she took an uncertain step back, but something crunched under foot. She flinched forward again, certain she had just stepped on a human bone._

_“Mariea!” Bracken called. She looked back to him. He hadn’t made any progress towards reaching her. She desperately wished he was by her side. She glanced around, not sure where to go, but the stranger was moving closer. His hands were mysteriously dark. She absentmindedly wondered why as she searched for a way out. The floor was disappearing under a sea of blood rising up to claim the victims’ remains. It seeped towards her, darkening everything in its path._

_Then her gaze snapped back to the man. That was why his hands were dark. They were covered in blood. He had killed all those people. And she realized now there was a high chance she was supposed to be his next victim._

_Letting out a small squeal of fear, she turned turned to run, determined to find a way to Bracken and out of that horrid place, but a hand closed around her shoulder from behind, yanking her back. She screamed as she was engulfed in an unholy pain._

Mariea shot upwards, gasping for air as she tried to escape the pain. It faded, and her bleary gaze made out her room. _Was…that a dream?_ She wondered as her disoriented brain realized she was sitting in her bed, her blankets pushed off her and tangled around her feet. It was a dream. She was cold because they were gone, and her mind crafted strange images to explain it. Strangely morbid images, to be specific.

She just wouldn’t question why the pain lingered for a moment after she woke up.

Shuddering, she decided she couldn’t stay in bed any longer. She still had an hour until her alarm went off, but she knew she wouldn’t be sleeping. She glanced over to her side at Bracken to make sure she hadn’t woke him. Thankfully, he was still resting peacefully, blissfully unaware of the scene she had just witnessed. Quietly, she slipped to the restroom and began preparing for the day.

Once she was finished, she headed out into the main room of their home. The small two bedroom house had a clean, modern design, with a large, open kitchen and living room combined. The bedroom door opened into a small hallway that led to the restroom to her left and front door to her right. Stepping through the archway let her into the light colored sitting area, which faced the windows along the back wall. Cutting across the space, she made her way to the kitchen, which lined the opposite wall, lit well by the windows. Just on the other side was the alcove where their dining table was, and the door to their small study.

Glancing around the kitchen, she mentally took stock of what they had on hand, and then glanced at her watch again. “I’ve got time,” she muttered, before she started pulling breakfast ingredients from the fridge.

By the time Bracken was up and dressed, she had cooked them each pancakes, eggs, and bacon. She was pouring orange juice when he stepped into the room, running a hand through his short, dark brown hair in an attempt to flatten the slight curl. He shuffled to the fridge as Mareia called, “Good morning.”

He turned to her to return the greeting, and then noticed the table was set. “What’s this?” he asked.

“Breakfast,” she replied smiling slightly at the humor of him asking such an obvious question.

He immediately perked up, clearly excited. “I guess I mean, what’s the occasion?” He wondered, moving towards the table.

Mariea shrugged. “Do I need an occasion to spoil my husband?” She wondered, stepping towards him.

He smiled. “Oh, I’m definitely down for that idea.”

She chuckled, and then he pulled her into a hug. When she closed her eyes, briefly, the images from her dream returned, and she suddenly felt immensely relieved to feel his embrace. She tightened her grip slightly, lingering a bit longer than she figured he had expected.

As if sensing something wasn’t quite right, he held her, gently tracing circles on her back with one hand. “You okay?” He muttered after a moment.

“Yeah, I just…had a weird dream last night. Made me grateful I have you,” she told him as she finally stepped back.

He gave her a sympathetic smile. “I hate dreams like that. You want to talk about it?”

“No, I’d rather forget. And eat these eggs, they’re going to get cold,” she decided.

He nodded. “Don’t have to tell me twice. Man, I miss breakfasts like this,” he told her as his smile returned and he moved for the table.

She couldn’t help but brighten at his enthusiasm. “I know, it seems we never have time for this sort of stuff.”

“Well, there’s no reason why I can’t get my lazy bones out of bed sooner and help. So I shouldn’t complain,” he told her with a shrug. Mariea smiled slightly, deciding not to dissuade him from his rest. Bracken was a terrible cook. His brain just functioned too much like a spell—it needed exactness, and cooking was way too much of an art for him to manage it.

They ate their breakfast with companionable small talk, and soon, Mariea found the nightmare fading into memory. When they were finished, they cleaned up, and then Mariea had to head to work. She gathered her things, kissed Bracken goodbye, and headed for the door.

Outside, the city of Verndale sprawled out below her, and in the distance the ocean stretched beyond Raidenya’s shores like a protective barrier around the island. She loved Raidenya in spring, and despite how she had lived on the island for fifteen years, she still couldn’t get over how beautiful it was. It was still only February, but the snow never lingered long, and the first signs of life returning to the island were beginning to show. Though New York had its charms, she didn’t regret leaving it behind. It just couldn’t compare to where she was now.

And she was certain part of the difference could be blamed on the magic the people of Raidenya used. The rest of the world knew nothing of the island, and the Auraes were careful to keep it that way so they could practice their gifts without trouble. Their power—which came from their auras—was often hated and feared by those who did not possess it. Raidenya was a safe haven, and because of what it offered, the people treasured it.

It was only a ten-minute drive from her home to the academy where she taught. She made her way down the hillside, passing from the suburban streets of her neighborhood into bustling downtown. Verndale wasn’t a huge city, but even in the years she had lived on the island, it had grown considerably.

About a block from the city center was the Aurae Academy, a sprawling campus with accommodations for education from six years old and up. She parked in the faculty parking lot behind the main building, which housed most of the advanced classes, as well as the dormitories for those students who chose to live there. Most of the students who did were adults, but the academy also reserved some rooms for younger students who didn’t have anywhere else to go,like those in the rare situation where they had just discovered their magical gifts and had come to the island seeking safety from the outside world. Mariea had once stayed there herself, when she had first discovered her power.

The main building was called Rybolov Hall, after the Aurae family who had once owned Raidenya but who had chosen to open their island home to others in need of a safe place to practice their magic in peace. The hall was built to mimic his old manor. Over the years, the building had undergone several remodels to update its facilities, though it maintained the classical architecture and theme as much as possible.

Mariea’s classroom was on the second floor. It was a large, rectangular space, with a wall of windows opposite the door and a whiteboard dominating the wall in between. Rows of tables allowed the students to easily work together. Mariea had a desk tucked in the corner against one of the windows. She placed her purse and other belongings in one of the drawers before hanging her jacket on the back of her desk chair.

For the past five years, she had taught at the academy, helping to introduce the new generation of Auraes to their auras. Her focus was the Elemental Magics, a group of magics that manipulated the four base elements of water, earth, fire, and air. After only a little time learning to master her own aura, she had found a preference in them, and had devoted her time to mastering them. The magic she taught was usually introduced to students in their teens, though on rare occasion there were those that were older who had been brought to the island at an older age.

As another class gathered, she felt the last of her worries from that morning melt away, replaced by a slight excitement that never failed to amaze her; it didn’t matter how many times she introduced the Elemental Magics to another group of students; it simply never got old. And since they had begun a new semester in February, they were just starting to get into handling the elements again.

Moving to the front of the room, Mariea leaned against the long cabinet there and waited for the class’s attention to turn to her. As they settled down, she smiled slightly. “Today is the day you’ve all been waiting for,” she announced to start the class. “Over the past few weeks I’ve introduced the concept of and prepared you for handling the first of the Elemental Magics, fire. Now, it’s time we show you just what this magic can accomplish and allow you to handle it yourself.”

Excitement rippled through the class, making her smile grow. Her aura came to view around her hands, its aqua glow adding an extra splash of color to the classroom. She drew only a minimal amount of power from it, meaning it only barely showed, instead of encasing her entirely as it did when she drew on its full strength.

“Fire is a dangerous element, but when used correctly, it can also be of great benefit,” she stated as she raised her palm before them.Fire sparked to life just above her hand as she continued. “When you use this magic, you are literally using the pure energy of your aura to light the fire, meaning the strength of your fire is directly connected to that of your aura. Because of this, this magic follows a much simpler process than other magics—you simply imagine the flame, will it to be, and then supply the energy of your aura. It takes time, and at first, even a small flame will cost a great amount of energy, but as you familiarize yourself with the magic and your aura grows, it will come more naturally.

“To start off with, it’s easier to bring a flame to light with a natural fuel; hence the matches on the tables. You’ll start with those today,” she finished. “Any questions before we get started?” A few were voiced, and she explained further. When they came to an end, she invited, “Alright, now you try it. Remember the spells we learned earlier in the class to protect you if the flame should get out of hand. You’ll want to use these every day before handling the flames, until you’re confident in your control.”

Auras blinked to life around the room in a variety of hues and shades as the students reached for the matches and began the necessary spells. Then the room fell silent as the students turned their concentration to the magic at hand. She watched them carefully, waiting for them to discover the power of their auras.

From one side of the room, a girl gasped as a small flame flickered to life on the end of the match she held. It died as quickly as it appeared, to her disappointment. Mariea approached her with another match. “Good job,” she congratulated quietly. “Try giving it a little more power this time.”

As the classroom continued, fire blinked to life across the room in small flickers as one by one the students managed to light their matches. Eventually, she called for them to finish up. “This is only the beginning of fire. Throughout the rest of the semester, we’ll explore its limits, and see just what your auras are capable of,” she informed them.

The class filed out as one hour ended and the next began. The room filled with an older group this time, who were working on learning water, the third elemental class she taught. She began explaining their final prep exam they were all required to take before handling a new element as the class began.

The rest of the day flew by, and eventually Mareia found herself home again, ready for a good night’s sleep. Her mind briefly strayed to the nightmare again, but she quickly pushed it away, knowing dwelling on it would only freak her out again, and cause her to have another nightmare. She was determined to put it behind her.

......

It was a week later when the next nightmare happened. This time, the same morbid stranger followed her through the streets of Verndale, never getting too close. He would appear in the corner of her eye and then disappear when she turned to him, like a shadow she couldn’t quite shake. But every time she turned around to continue her desperate attempt to escape him, she’d find another person she loved, dead at her feet, almost as if she had somehow murdered them.

That dream, and the one before, were the start of a new, terrifying pattern in her life, once she couldn’t even being to understand—every week, for the entire month of February, she would have a nightmare, and after, something would always linger—a feeling of pain, or temperature, or the textures around her. And with each passing one, she found it harder and harder to shake the overwhelming feeling something was coming, even when she was awake.

Bracken began to notice as well. When she woke from the second nightmare in the first week of March, he sat up to comfort her. “I'm really starting to hate seeing you this way. What’s causing all these nightmares?” He muttered as her breathing slowed and her heart rate slowly returned to normal.

She shook her head, not sure how to answer. “I’m sorry I keep waking you. This is ridiculous,” she muttered, feeling childish. She just couldn’t understand why her mind seemed fixed on dwelling on such macabre scenes.

As if deciding neither of them would be sleeping soon, Bracken leaned over and turned the lamp on his nightstand on. “You’re not bothering me. I’m worried about you. This just isn’t natural. You must be exhausted after so many nights without sleep.”

“It is becoming a bit of a nuisance,” she reluctantly admitted. The consistent pattern and the lingering emotions were what upset her the most. The longer they went on, the clearer it became ot her that these weren't regular nightmares. “I’m…beginning to think there’s more to them.”

“There has to be something triggering them,” he agreed with a nod.

Mariea shrugged, realizing Bracken hadn’t entirely caught on to her meaning, but she went with it. “I’ve been trying to figure that out, but there’s literally nothing I’m dealing with to cause it. I’m not overly stressed or worried about anything in particular, nothing out of the ordinary. I don’t know.”

“Could it be that what stress you are dealing with is finally starting to take its toll?” Bracken asked. “There has been a lot of changes recently, it wouldn’t be that surprising.” She knew he was referring to her recent election to chancellor of the governing council of Raidenya, a position she hadn’t expected to receive and felt slightly unqualified for, but she couldn’t see the connection herself.

“It can’t be that simple,” she muttered, her gaze on the wall across the room.

“Then what could it be? It’s weird to continually have nightmares for no reason,” Bracken mused, looking stumped.

“Yeah,” she muttered. After a pause, she glanced up to him and cautiously ventured, “Would…you find it crazy if I told you I thought they were a warning of some kind?”

He considered that for a moment, his head tilted slightly to one side as he thought. “Not necessarily crazy. There’s a lot of things about this world we simply don’t understand. I don’t doubt it could be possible. Is that what you’re thinking they are?”

“I’m starting to,” she confirmed with a small nod. She paused a moment to collect her thoughts. “They’re too consistent. And normal nightmares don’t leave me this rattled. The emotions I feel…tend to linger. I’m left grieving a death that hasn’t happened, terrified of events that seem highly unlikely, and no matter how much I tell myself it’s just a dream it doesn’t stick. They…” As she finally met Bracken’s gaze, she felt the dark worry overwhelm her again even as she spoke of it. “Every time they fill me with dread. Of what, I don’t know, but I can’t shake it. As crazy as it sounds, I…I think there’s something coming, something I should be afraid of, but I don’t know what.”

Bracken held her gaze for a moment in silence, and then let out a long, heavy sigh. “Which leaves us with little idea what to do about it.”

Mariea nodded in agreement, feeling a little relieved he believed her. “That’s the most frustrating part. They leave me with no clues as to what’s happening. I just…” her hands tightened into fists in the blankets as the image of Bracken’s death from the dream that night came to mind. “I can’t allow what happens in those dreams to become reality.”

Bracken wrapped an arm around her shoulders, making her realize how tense she had become, and how uncomfortably close she was to tears. Quickly, she blinked them away as she fought to gain control of her emotions.

“We’ll figure it out. I trust you,” he told her with a bittersweet smile. She nodded, hoping he was right. After a pause, he added, “Maybe it would be good to start writing these dreams down. If we could compare them, we might find a pattern of some sort or something that could give us a hint into where they’re coming from or why.”

“I’ll try it,” she agreed, deciding any sort of plan, as weak as it was, was better than doing nothing.

He nodded. Then he stifled a yawn, clearly trying not to let on how tired he was. Of course, he would be exhausted too, waking up as often as he did. She tried not to bother him, but there was nothing she could do when she started screaming in her sleep, or desperately grasping at him as if trying to claw her way out of a pit. But he hadn’t once complained, just did his best to comfort her.

“Let’s go back to sleep,” she muttered.

“If you want,” he decided.

She glanced at the clock. “Yeah, it’s only midnight.”

He nodded and settled back against his pillow, gesturing for her to join him. She curled close, grateful for his presence. She had to fight the urge to ask to leave the light on. All her life, she had never been afraid of the dark, but now, at twenty-four, she couldn’t list anything she was more afraid of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo, first chapter! I love first chapters. 
> 
> This story has been a WIP for years now but I finally think I've made it to the final draft...or so we shall see. I'm beginning to think my curse as an author is my constant need to change things, and the resulting ripple affect...
> 
> I recently edited in the dream at the beginning, and reread it for the first time as I'm posting this. Boy, it's intense. More so than I remember. Let me know if it's too much. Also, this is about as violent as the series will ever get, description wise. Do you think it's enough to warrant a warning tag?


	2. Raidenya's Council

** Chapter Two **

** Raidenya’s Council **

**_ Mariea _ **

_Fire blazed all around Mariea, the only light source in the dim world she found herself in. The streets of her home lay in ruins behind her, but she had long since accepted there was nothing she could do to stop the fire. It was unnatural, fueled by a power she could not combat._

_But that didn’t mean she couldn’t use the fire against her enemies. Her aura flared bright around her as she reached for the fire. It gave in to her will and bent from its path to gather in her outstretched palm. Her anger and despair poured strength into her aura, making the fire she controlled burn sharp white and scorching. With a wave of her hand, she sent it flinging towards the dark shadows that surrounded her in a wide, blinding arch. Few perished, just as she had expected. She could feel their power and knew her enemy was plenty strong enough to destroy her, but she fought on, her only thought one of vengeance for those she had already lost._

_Suddenly, she did not fight alone. Bracken appeared nearby, struggling to survive against the same foe. Realizing he could never match their power, Mariea rushed to assist, just as she had hundreds of times before, despite knowing she would never reach him in time. As she watched, helpless to intervene, his defenses failed him, and he perished._

_He was the last of those she loved to fall. With him went her desire to fight. She could survive the loss of her community, her friends and neighbors, but not her husband. She had no one left to fight for, and her own life seemed pointless. Her aura snuffed out, leaving her vulnerable to the shadows around her. She simply stared ahead without seeing as they engulfed her, a slim part of her welcoming the endless darkness they brought._

Shocked awake by the echoing whine of her alarm clock, Mariea sat up abruptly, expecting to find the dark world she had left behind to be her reality. When the confusion faded and she finally realized it had been another dream, she let out a heavy sigh and reached to turn the alarm clock off.

With the blaring annoyance finally silenced, she glanced to her left where Bracken was just stirring. Despite how many times she had lost him in her dreams, she found she had to see him once she awoke, just to confirm it was, in fact, just a dream. They still felt so real, after nearly a month of dealing with them.

Pushing herself from bed, she numbly began the day with a level of somberness she couldn’t shake. Every time she lost focus on what she was doing—which wasn’t hard, considering how exhausted she was—her mind began rehashing the details of the latest nightmare in an endless loop, refusing to allow her to forget.

This was her morning routine, now. Since the first one, they had slowly increased in frequency, until it was almost every night there was at least one haunting dream. Some weren’t even enough to fully wake her. Others left her jittery and nervous, never sure she could trust the shadows to not be hiding a monster. Others still left her weary and unable to focus all day.

Part of her quietly despaired that the dreams would never end. Bracken had consulted with a Medic friend and offered her a few medicinal remedies, but none of them had kept the dreams at bay. He tried protection spells, even a spell designed to render a person unconscious, and still, without fail, they made their way to her. Recording them left them with no pattern, other than she was often being stalked by a mysterious murderer in her dreams. Sometimes there were more than one, like last night, but one thing was always certain—their goal was to take everyone she loved and destroy her home.

After a quick shower, she dressed in a simple blue blouse and dress slacks, and then made her way to the mirror to tame her thick blonde hair into something presentable. When she finished brushing through it, it fell in loose waves to her shoulders, and she settled on that being good enough for the day. Taking in her appearance as a whole, she frowned slightly, noticing the dark circles under her eyes, and if she wasn’t mistaken, she looked a little ashen. It seemed the lack of real sleep was starting to impact her health. 

Making her way to the kitchen, she perused the cabinets for something to eat. Nothing looked appetizing, as it did most mornings, but with the little energy she was running on at this point, she knew she needed to try and eat anyway. Settling on a simple bowl of cereal, she prepared it quickly and headed for the table.

Bracken was already there, munching on a bagel while he read the newspaper. He looked up as she approached and smiled. “Good morning.”

Managing a smile, she returned the greeting. His attention returned to the newspaper, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Immediately, her mind wandered back to the dream again despite her desire to think of anything else. She began comparing the details to other dreams she had experienced with a forced detachment, trying to keep herself from reacting emotionally.

After a moment, Bracken glanced back up again, seeming to notice her somber mood. “Are you alright?” he asked, his dark brown gaze filled with concern.

Blinking, she shook herself from her stupor and nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay,” she reassured him with a sigh. He didn’t seem to believe her. After a moment of enduring his silent scrutiny, she gave in and admitted, “It’s just…I had another nightmare last night.”

His frown only deepened. “Again?”

Mariea gave a hesitant nod. “They’re no big deal though, really,” she dismissed, knowing her worried about them insistently. She was grateful this one hadn’t woken him, at least.

“This is the fourth one this week,” Bracken pointed out.

“Fifth, actually,” Mariea corrected softly, her gaze falling to her cereal. She absentmindedly realized it would quickly become an unappetizing mush if she didn’t eat it soon, but the tight not of worry in the pit of her stomach made it seem an impossible task.

His brow furrowed in worry. “They’re happening more frequently.”

She nodded. “I would do anything for a good night’s sleep at this point.”

“I asked around the office for solutions for sleeplessness. I’ll follow up today and see what they’ve learned,” he decided.

She nodded, unable to admit she had long since given up on any hope he might come up with a solution. Mariea returned to her cereal, attempting to eat a bit more, and Bracken’s gaze became unfocused as he got lost in thought, clearly dwelling on the problem. She felt horrible dumping all this on him, but she didn’t know what else to do. At one point she had even tried to convince him they were gone so he wouldn’t worry about her, but she was a terrible liar and he hadn’t believed her for a second.

Suddenly her watch beeped, shattering the tense silence that had fallen over them. She barely prevented herself from jumping, but instead raised her wrist to discover what time it was. “Oh, I’ve got to go,” she realized, standing in a rush. She hurried to the bedroom, gathered her keys and purse, and then returned and gave Bracken a quick kiss. “See you at the meeting tonight.”

Catching her in a quick, one-armed hug, he teased, “Try not to be late this time.” She rolled her eyes and smiled slightly, before slipping out the door.

Outside, the warmth of the early morning sun enveloped her, chasing away the lingering chill of spring and making her smile slightly. At least it seemed it would be a pretty day. _Maybe I should sleep outside. I always feel better out here,_ she mused. 

As she drove, she told herself she wouldn’t let the nightmares ruin her day, as she did every morning they bothered her. It would be easier said than done, but teaching had a way of simplifying the world for her. If she could figure out how to explain the power of her aura and the wondrous things it could create in a way her students could understand, she could figure out anything. 

When she reached her classroom, she was just dropping off her things when someone called her name from behind. She turned to see Francesca, an older woman who ran the early education program in the building across the campus. Mareia turned and smiled in greeting.

“Good morning Mariea,” she stated, moving to stand with her. “You have your prep period first thing, correct?”

“Yes, for the first hour of the day,” Mareia confirmed. “Why, did you need something?” She silently hoped Francesca wouldn’t need anything. Her prep period had slowly devolved into ‘mentally recover enough to actually face the day’ time, and she wasn’t sure she’d manage without it.

“Oh, good. You see, Molly’s baby came early—luckily she and baby are doing fine—but obviously we didn’t have a substitute planned for another few weeks. The substitute said he’d be able to start next week, thankfully, so now I’m desperately searching for someone to fill in for the rest of this week. I’ve been asking since Monday and have yet to find anyone available this morning. I know you usually only work with the older kids and college students, but is there any way I could get you to cover, just for one hour? I can take over after that.”

Mariea glanced back to her desk, mentally considering all the work there that was slowly beginning to pile up. She really wanted to say no. But she felt guilty abandoning her fellow teacher. “Well…I don’t know anything about teaching younger children. What would you need me to do?” Auraes were typically introduced to their auras and the power they controlled very early on, but their aura wasn’t developed enough to start using magic until they were eight. That was pretty much all she knew when it came to educating anyone younger than about fourteen.

“Oh, nothing too complicated,” Francesca quickly reassured her. “The children usually start the day with reading practice but if you would prefer to cover their magic studies instead, it won’t hurt to mix things up. They are just reviewing over their basic understanding of the difference between spells and magic so they will be ready to take their first test in a week or so. It’s a group of eight-year-olds, so not small children, if that’s concerning to you.”

“No, not at all,” Mareia quickly corrected. She for some reason felt a little miffed Francesca was implying she might not like kids. Was it because she had none of her own yet?

“Oh, so you can do it?” Francesca asked, brightening slightly.

Realizing Francesca had misinterpreted her response, she scrambled to correct her and then sighed. “Why not? I’ve got the time. Just for an hour though; I have my first class at nine.”

“Of course, of course, I have my prep period then and can take over from there. Oh, thank you so much. You have no idea how stressed I’ve been about this. Let me show you to Molly’s room.”

Mareia managed a smile as she moved to her desk and locked up her purse. “Let me just get a few things,” she told her, gathering a small handful of unguarded papers in hopes she could get through them in between managing the class. Then she motioned for Francesca to show the way.

The pair made their way outside, and then crossed the large, sprawling lawn between the buildings, to the smaller, and much more modern early education building. They stopped outside the first door on her left. Stepping inside, Francesca quickly gathered the attention of the children there, and then introduced Mariea to them. Mariea stood near her, studying the group hesitantly. There were twenty kids in total, less than her usual classes, and for the most part, they seemed well behaved. Hopefully it would be an easy hour.

“Well children, be good for Mrs. Rolondo, alright?” Francesca told them, and then promptly left her alone. Once she was gone, Mariea couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous, which was so rare for her, as a teacher. But she smiled, and decided to just jump straight in. Sure, she’d be making it up as she went a bit, but they were eight-year-olds. How hard could it be?

“So today your regular instructor is out sick, but she asked me to quiz you all and see if you’re ready for trying some real magic soon. So, let’s get started. First question: Who can tell me the difference between spells and magic?”

After only a moment, hands began to raise. She called on one boy, who replied, “Spells use words and magic don’t.”

Smiling slightly at his simplistic explanation, Mariea nodded. “Right. Spells are a form of magic, which relies on a certain language to use. Who can tell me what it’s called?”

“Shidokian!” One girl called before hands could even be raised. Mariea nodded. Shidokian was the second language of the Auraes, used primarily for their magic. Though the language could and often was used for everyday conversation, every word held power, so most found it safer to stick to more traditional languages. It also wasn’t an easy language to learn, and Mariea still had a hard time grasping it due to her late start learning it.

“Good. So, can someone explain to me how a spell works?” Mariea asked next.

This time, Mariea was allowed to choose a student to answer. There weren’t as many hands raised as she ventured into more complicated questions. “Spells are built of sequences, kind of like math equations,” the girl explained. “But they’re all written in Shidokian.”

Mariea nodded, amazed they understood the concept so well at such a young age. It had seemed like such a foreign idea to her when it had been first introduced. “Correct, and these sequences, they teach the spell its purpose, right?” The class nodded obediently. “So why do we have both spells and magic?”

The class seemed to struggle for an answer, so after a moment, Mariea decided to supply it for them. “Remember, spells were created to allow us to do more complicated things with our auras, such as healing someone who is sick or building something. Regular magic is more based off emotion and imagination—it’s something you do quickly and without much thought. For example…”

Her aura came to view around her hands, and a small fire sprung to life above her open palm, eliciting excited gasps from the classroom as they stared in open wonder.

“This is magic. I didn’t have to build a spell to create it. I just imagined the fire in my hand, and it appeared. You still have to learn this type of magic, but it doesn’t require any knowledge of Shidokian.”

The fire disappeared. Then, her aura grew brighter as she muttered a short Shidokian phrase. After only a few seconds, she was surrounded in lightweight, aqua-tinted armor. Then her aura faded. “This, I created with a spell. It’ll stay, even when my aura isn’t active, until I want it to go away.”

The armor faded after a moment and she continued to ask more questions. She found she could settle into a nice routine with the kids, and despite her earlier worries, she actually enjoyed herself. Before long, Francesca returned, and she was allowed to return to her regular schedule.

At the end of the day, she spent a little time catching up on grading assignments, before she left the academy behind to fulfill her other regular duty. It was still odd, knowing all the Auraes around her looked to her for leadership. Her election as chancellor had come as a complete shock. She hadn’t wanted it, hadn’t even been seeking it, but that was something interesting about the way the Auraes governed themselves—they felt everyone was equal, even current elected officials, and everyone had a part to play in keeping the great city safe and running. When called upon, they were required by law to fulfill the assignment handed to them.

Though Mariea didn’t consider herself a great leader, she had warmed to the position quickly. Being able to help others and play her part in a society she had once felt she would never find her place in brought her a surprising amount of satisfaction—almost as much as teaching at the academy. It was a bit much doing both jobs, but she almost enjoyed the pace, preferring to stay busy.

At least, she had until the dreams had begun. Now she found herself exhausted and wishing for a way out of the weekly evening meetings and other duties required. It was why she had been so late to the last one—she had fallen asleep at her desk at the academy and nearly slept through the meeting.

The Academy and Capitol Building were close enough she often walked, but today, she found herself too tired to, so she drove the short distance and parked outside the grand marble building. Climbing the stairs, she passed the statue of the original colonists and its accompanying sign, which declared the name of the island and city, as well as the date the community was established. It stood as a constant reminder of how long the Auraes had managed to stay hidden—and safe—from the rest of the world. The colonists stood guarding the capitol building, declaring their joy over their newfound home.

Passing through the double doors at the top of the stairs, Mariea glanced around the crowd of busy men and women. Just beyond the doors stood a row of the city’s peacekeepers, known as Sentinels. They silently stood guard in their crisp, light-colored uniforms. Mariea passed through them and started across the lobby to the marble staircase that dominated the back wall of the room.

The second floor was mostly office space, and she passed by quickly. Tucked in the far left corner of the floor was a more modest stairwell that lead to the smaller third floor. At the top, a short, mostly empty hallway lead to a pair of great oak doors flanked by two Sentinels. As she approached, they opened the double doors and allowed her entrance. The room beyond was lit mostly by the afternoon sunlight pouring through the windows along the back wall, and the chandelier hanging from the domed ceiling far above. Covering one wall was a huge mural of the island from a distance under the light of a setting sun, adding a splash of color.

Present in the room were several familiar individuals. Their conversations briefly paused as Mariea joined them, taking her place in the center of the u-shaped table that dominated the room. Ila Layne sat to her right and glanced up to give Mariea a brief greeting. To Mariea’s left, Gavin Conover, Shawn Williamson, and Bracken were deep in conversation. Misha Eisen sat at the far end of the table next to Bracken, her head bowed over a stack of papers. Not long after Mariea entered, Jocelyn Pharr joined them as well, adjusting the sleeves of her crisp Sentinel uniform as she made her way to her seat next to Ila.

Across from Bracken and Misha were two empty chairs. Mariea sighed when she noticed them. It was well past time for their occupants to be present, and yet, the chairs were still empty. Glancing to Ila, she asked, “Samar isn’t here again?”

Ila nodded in confirmation, a strand of her thick, dark curls slipping loose from her bun with the motion to hang along the side of her face. “He left a note informing us he wouldn’t be coming, still with no explanation.” Though she did her best to keep the comment neutral, her annoyance leaked into her words, nonetheless.

With a shrug, Mariea muttered, “I guess he can’t complain when we make decisions without him that affect the Brotherhood.”

“Oh, you know he will,” Ila promised.

Mariea gave a weary nod, knowing all too well how difficult the Brotherhood’s council representative could be. Sometimes he acted as if he led the entire island, not just the Brotherhood.

To the rest of the group, she called, “Alright, let’s get started.”

One by one, the council members reported on events under their individual jurisdiction. They started with Gavin, who served as Mariea’s councilor as well as oversaw public relations between the council and the general populace. With a thinner build, black hair, warm-toned skin and dark eyes, he was a somber man, often with plenty to worry about, but he was good at what he did. He kept the council carefully informed of the wishes of the general populace, so they could serve the people to the best of their abilities.

His report was brief, so they moved on to Ila. Ila was also considered Mariea’s councilor, and her duties lay simply in the general operation of the city, helping Mariea manage the burden. Mariea had known Ila since she had come to the island; when she had first come to Raidenya, the Layne family had allowed her to stay with them for a few weeks before she had moved to the academy housing. Ila came from a rich heritage; her mother was originally from Africa, and her stepfather’s family were long standing members of the community, their ancestors amongst the first to settle on the island. Ila had never met her birth father, but her mother often told her she shared in his fiery passion for life and dedication to his work. This reflected openly in her efforts to assist Mariea, even if her temper could get out of check from time to time.

Her report was a positive one, and Mariea was happy to hear the affairs of the city continued forward well.

Bracken was in charge of a group known as the Spells Masters. They were tasked with maintaining the spells that protected the island from the outside world as well as designing new spells when needed. Despite having been married to Bracken for a few years now, Mariea was still amazed by how easily he navigated the world of spells. They came so naturally to him, it was astounding.

After giving a brief positive report on the state of the spells over the island, he turned the time over to Shawn.

Shawn Williamson was over the educational department on the island, and the Headmaster of the Aurae Academy. He was in his early fifties but dressed as though he was from an older age and was always meticulously well-groomed. He greeted everyone with a friendly smile and good-natured but sometimes unwanted advice.

As he replaced his glasses on the brim of his nose and glanced down at his notes, he shared information about upcoming enrollment plans for summer classes. Then he added a bit about a new pilot class they were trying for introducing students to Medical magics earlier in their studies in hopes of sparking more interested in that field.

As he finished, he glanced to Misha and gave her permission to continue the meeting. Misha served as Head Medic and was the oldest member of the council in her late sixties. Nobody would guess, though, when speaking with her. Though her dark hair was mostly gray now, and her hands were weathered with age, she refused to let age slow her down.

Before her report, she paused and stated, “I…think Jocelyn should give her report first, as everything I have to say would make more sense in context with the information she has.”

Jocelyn met the old Medic’s gaze and nodded. The Sentinel department was a long-standing order, dating back to the first Aurae communities. They guarded the Aurae world and kept order among them. Jocelyn had held the position of head Sentinel for a good ten years now, and since her election, the city had known an unparalleled peace. Her cold outer demeanor and pale, calculating gaze would not speak of it, but she loved the people greatly.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, especially since for the most part things are going well,” she sighed, her gaze on the table before her and her arms crossed against her chest. “There have been several mysterious attacks on the city, resulting in the deaths of a quickly growing number of Auraes. They started a few weeks ago, and since they’re increasing and I have yet to find a cause, I figured it was time to mention it to all of you. Among them have been Sentinels, meaning whatever this threat is, it’s strong.”

Mariea’s heart skipped a beat, briefly wondering if she had nodded off and this was now a dream. Though the events themselves were nothing like her dreams, they left her feeling the same way, and she didn’t like noticing that connection.

Forcing herself to focus, and for her voice to remain steady, she carefully asked, “Any theories as to what it could be?”

“Not yet. Unfortunately I don’t have much to go off of. There’s usually signs of a struggle when the body is found, but it seems brief. They have all had one thing in common; they died because their aura is gone. Somehow, whatever is attacking is destroying or removing it, somehow. I know of no magic that can do this. Have any of you heard of such a power?”

Mariea shook her head, stumped, and the group reflected her answer almost as quickly. Such a power seemed impossible. To take an Aurae’s aura would mean certain death, so why would they bother to invent a magic that could do it?

Jocelyn nodded. “That’s what I thought.” Her gaze turned to Misha. “Have you learned anything from the autopsies?”

“It’s definitely not caused by disease or poison, that much I can tell,” Misha told her with a small sigh. She seemed weary just speaking of it, which surprised Mariea. The old Medic saw the worst the world could dish out in her career, so for something to upset her, it must be serious. “The victims show little sign of physical injuries, other than their lack of auras and the trauma losing it suddenly would cause the body to endure. But there’s never any clues as to what exactly made their aura disappear.”

“It’s not Tarapor related, is it?” Gavin asked after a pause. He often mentioned the pests the Auraes dealt with in the surrounding forested areas of the island. Mariea couldn’t blame him—they had been the cause of many deaths in the past, and if they weren’t careful, she didn’t doubt it could happen again—but she frequently found herself doubting they were capable of some of the things he equated to them.

Jocelyn shook her head, but Misha shrugged. “At first I immediately ruled it out; none of the characteristic signs of a Tarapor attack were present,” she stated. “But at this point, I’m willing to consider it. Maybe it’s a new strain of Tarapor that live off auras instead of blood?”

“Could a new strain just develop like that?” Mariea asked. She knew very little of the disease causing the Tarapor’s existence.

With a small nod, Misha explained, “It is possible, I assume. Maybe the virus causing it has mutated. The only reason I doubt is because it has never happened before, but that doesn’t rule it out as impossible.”

“I wonder if the Brotherhood knows anything about this,” Bracken mused, glancing towards the empty seats.

“Wouldn’t it be nice if we could ask them,” Ila grumbled sarcastically.

“If…these attacks are happening more frequently, and in correlation with their repeated absences, could it be the Tarapor are getting out of hand?” Gavin ventured carefully.

“If that is the case, we need to step in,” Ila immediately stated. Mariea knew her old friend had a lot against the Brotherhood, fueled by past disagreements. Often, she found herself wishing Ila would just let it go.

“There’s nothing we can do to fight the Tarapor,” Mariea reminded her. “They would kill anyone we sent. We have to trust the Brotherhood to handle it.”

“That is their role, after all,” Shawn agreed with a nod. “Besides, if things were out of hand, they would inform us.”

“I…hate to disagree with you, but I’m pretty positive they would keep it to themselves,” Jocelyn stated.

Bracken nodded. “It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve failed to report on important matters. They do tend to insist on their secrecy a bit more than necessary.”

Mariea had to admit he had a point. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to send someone to their headquarters just to make sure there isn’t more of a reason for their lack of communication and frequent absences,” she admitted.

“I could go,” Gavin offered. “I’ve been meaning to head that way anyway.” Mariea knew it was because his sister was a member of the Brotherhood, and he rarely had a chance to see her.

Mariea nodded in agreement. “Remember, you’re only there to make sure the Brotherhood is still functioning. We can’t get involved with the Tarapor.”

“Will do,” Gavin agreed with an acknowledging nod to Mariea’s command.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 posted! Nothing much to say on this one, except if you liked it, leave a comment!


	3. Headquarters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mefune and Altaira duel for a coveted spot on the Brotherhood Council.

** Chapter Three **

** Headquarters **

_** Mefune ** _

“So, Mefune, why does the Brotherhood use swords? I mean, I know the rest of the world has better weapons. Why stick to something so old fashioned?” the boy asked.

Mefune glanced at him. Aron couldn’t have been more than twelve, but he was smart, Mefune noticed. But his intelligence made him arrogant. His tone was almost flippant as he spoke with Mefune, and he often questioned his orders, despite the fact that he was at least thirteen years the boy’s senior, and one of the highest-ranking members of the Brotherhood. Mefune knew his cocky attitude would have led him to trouble with others, but he was more patient than most. Still, Aron had the amazing ability to annoy even Mefune.

_I asked for this though_ , he reminded himself, reflecting on his request at the announcement of the match for a younger member to assist him in preparing. He didn’t necessarily need the help, but he liked to keep tabs on the newest recruits, to see what the future generation of the Brotherhood was shaping out to be. Menial tasks such as what he had recruited Aron for was an easy way to get a chance to speak with them without their interaction going to their heads.

Turning back to preparing the sword in his hands, Mefune answered, “Because modern weapons are as useless against the Tarapor as an Aurae’s magics.”

“Why?” the boy pestered.

“Their auras, though destroyed by the disease that made them what they are, naturally repel almost anything. The metal in these weapons had to be specially crafted. It’s a tedious and dangerous process—they’re deadly to anyone with an aura but can only be made by an Aurae—so we stick to weapons that can be used multiple times. Besides, even modern weapons such as a gun made of this metal aren’t very effective. A sword or knife is the quickest way to kill a Tarapor.”

Aron seemed to consider this for a moment, granting Mefune a few minutes of silence. He continued his work, running a cloth down the length of his sword to polish it. The blade was long and thin, with a gentle, almost imperceptible curve. The edge was deadly sharp, and he meticulously maintained it as such. With little decoration, the weapon was practical, lightweight, and efficient, just like Mefune preferred.

Setting it down, he picked up a second blade, which was a perfect reflection of the first, the other half of a symmetrical object. With the help of embedded magic, the swords actually became one when pressed together, becoming a slightly heavier weapon for when needed.

“Didn’t the Auraes teach you these things back in Verndale?” Mefune wondered, bringing the boy from his thoughts.

Aron shook his head. “Not really. They focus mostly on those with auras, and since I don’t have one…” he shrugged and fell silent.

“Hmm,” Mefune muttered. It wasn’t the first time he had heard of such prejudices. It created a bit of animosity between the Auraes and Brotherhood at times, since the Brotherhood were mainly auraless. But he didn’t think it was extreme enough that they entirely neglected the education of the auraless children, as Aaron was implying.

Straightening, Mefune commanded, “Go keep tabs on things, let me know when Altaira’s ready.”

“I thought I was supposed to help you,” Aron countered. He had already spent plenty of time completing small tasks, but apparently didn’t appreciate being dismissed.

“This is how I want you to help. Go,” Mefune insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument. Aron sighed but left, leaving Mefune alone.

Satisfied with his swords, he pressed them together to make one blade and then placed it in its sheath, before resting it on the table before him. As he pulled on a pair of fingerless gloves, Garrett, a member of the Brotherhood Council, walked in. Garrett was close to Mefune in age, with light brown hair and steel-gray eyes. Though he wasn’t entirely sure how trustworthy Garrett was, Mefune considered him something of a friend.

“Hey, good luck out there,” he commented as he approached. He moved to lean against the table, crossing his arms against his chest. “Think you’ll win?”

Without hesitating, Mefune replied, “I know I’ll win.”

Garrett looked a bit surprised and then smirked slightly. “Somebody’s confident. You sure?” Mefune nodded simply. “I don’t know, I’ve seen Altaira fight. She’s pretty good. What makes you so sure?”

“I’ve seen her as well. She is good, but not unstoppable. I’ll win,” Mefune reassured him. He wasn’t trying to seem cocky or boastful, he just knew he was good at what he did. There weren’t many who could match his natural talent, and combined with the amount he practiced, it put him well ahead almost all the members of the Brotherhood. Most saw him as quite the prodigy; despite being young, and being born outside of the Brotherhood’s ranks, guaranteeing a late start, he had climbed the ranks quickly.

“You want to win?” Garrett wondered, considering Mefune with his head tilted to one side slightly. He knew of Mefune’s original reluctance to involve himself in the politics.

Mefune considered how best to answer, before shrugging slightly. “I accepted the duel, did I not? If I hadn’t wanted it, I could have just given the position to her. I have no objections to being part of the Council.”

“So, you are a bit ambitious after all,” Garrett teased. When Mefune didn’t respond, Garrett rolled his eyes, annoyed he hadn’t gotten a reaction.

“Mefune?” a voice asked from behind. He turned to see Aron had returned. “Altaira’s ready. The fight can begin once you enter the ring.”

Mefune nodded and reached for his sword. Garrett pushed away from the table. “Well, I guess I’ll see you on the other side. I’d wish you luck again, but it seems you won’t need it,” he teased.

This time, Mefune allowed the faintest hint of a smirk. “I’ll take it anyway,” he muttered, before following Aron out of the small preparation room.

He stepped out into a large arena. The ground was sandy, left over from the cove that had once occupied the space. He glanced up at the surrounding stands. They were filled to overflowing with the Brotherhood, who waited silently for the fight to begin, the tension almost audible in the air. It was rare they witnessed such a duel, and anticipation ran high.

Across the circle, a woman about Mefune’s age stood confidently, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of a sword strapped to her waist. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a tight braid, and she wore flexible, dark clothing, perfect for fighting in. Her gaze followed him as he moved to stand opposite her, his stance relaxed.

He was more than ready for this fight—he had known intuitively their almost subconscious contest wouldn’t be able to remain as such, so he had made sure he was familiar with her fighting style to prepare himself for when the moment came.

They were about to battle for a place on the Brotherhood Council, and not only any spot, but the chair for Raidenya itself, giving whoever held it ultimate authority of the island headquarters when the whole Council wasn’t present. Recently, the former chair holder, Creta, had passed away from a long struggle with illness, leaving the spot up for grabs.

Tradition had it that the Council members could choose their successor, but anyone who thought they were good enough could challenge for the position. Creta had appointed Mefune, as he had expected. Altaira hadn’t hesitated to challenge him, as he had guessed she would. She wouldn’t pass up the chance to take power, but Mefune wasn’t about to hand it to her. Even if he tried to pretend otherwise, he did enjoy the idea of being part of the Council.

Samar, the senior member of the Brotherhood Council and the council head, stepped into the circle, his brown eyes studying the two as they approached him. “You both know the rules. Fight fair, no acting on murderous intentions.” He smiled slightly, a bit of dry humor seeping into his words. Mefune had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Altaira muttered her agreement, and Mefune gave a nod in consent. “Good luck to the both of you,” Samar continued. Taking a few steps back, he called, “Draw swords!”

Mefune drew his sword and slipped into a fighting stance as Altaira reached for her own weapon. Once Samar stepped out of the circle, the fight began. Altaira rushed at Mefune and swung her blade at him. Obviously eager to win, she attacked fast and hard, pushing Mefune to maintain his defenses. He found himself delighted by how much her skills forced him to try; rarely amongst the Brotherhood did he find someone who could keep up with him.

Once, she nearly cornered him against the wall of the bleachers, but he quickly slipped out of her grasp. She didn’t give him a single moment to rest, immediately following his escape with another onslaught. _She’s good_ , Mefune had to admit, at least to himself. _I can see why Garrett questioned me._

He allowed the fight to continue a moment more, before he decided it was time to turn the battle in his favor. After deflecting a couple more of her blows, he pushed the first hole in her defenses that he saw, and she was forced to retreat a step, pausing in her onslaught. He pressed his attack, and suddenly she was on the defensive. Altaira frowned slightly but continued to match his attacks with her own.

It wasn’t long before he started to see some of the weaknesses in her form he had noticed before when he had seen her fight. The most prominent one was by far how her grip weakened after parrying a blow aimed at her left side. If he could get her to deflect a quick blow at that angle, there was a chance he could disarm her. He circled around, focusing on her weaker side, attacking hard and fast when he saw an opening but giving her little time to add in any real offense of her own.

Then, his opportunity came; when she absorbed a blow directly with the blade of the sword, the combined force of his attack and her vulnerability loosened her grip. Before she could retreat and correct it, he spun his sword around her blade and pushed it away with a hard shove, sending it tumbling from her grasp.

To her credit, she reacted well; darting away, she moved out of his grasp, her confusion from losing her weapon only lasting a split second. Her gaze trailed briefly to her sword, which rested on the ground between them, glinting in the sunlight. He waited, knowing she wouldn’t be willing to give up yet, but whether she went for the sword or simply attacked unarmed was the real question.

He saw the shift in her stance, the subtle hint she intended to lunge for the fallen weapon before she moved, and reacted first. Just after her hand wrapped around the hilt of her sword, Mefune was in front of her, his sword point pressed against her neck. If it had been a real fight, he would have just landed a fatal blow. Triumph filled Mefune and he allowed a small smirk as Samar called the match.

Altaira let go of her sword again, standing slowly, and Mefune backed off. After sheathing his own weapon, he retrieved her sword and returned it to her. Altaira practically ripped the sword from his grasp, clearly infuriated. Mefune expected nothing less, so he quickly dismissed it. They were swept up in celebrations almost immediately, and he forgot about her, focusing instead on his victory.

* * *

**_ Altaira _ **

Leaving the arena, Altaira and Mefune were escorted by the crowd to the dining hall, Mefune surrounded by well-wishers, and Altaira left to sulk in her defeat. The grand room echoed with the buzzing excitement of the group as they entered. Altaira didn’t follow, too angered to even consider going to the party. She left the group behind, heading instead to the stairs up to the living quarters.

The stone halls were dimly lit and almost entirely empty. She reached her apartment without interruption, to her relief. Locking the door behind her, she removed her sheathed sword from her belt and tossed it on the couch across from the door. She ran her hands through her hair, pulling half of it free from the braid. When it snarled around her fingers, she yanked the band out and allowed her hair to fall the rest of the way free, chucking the band into some dark corner of the room. She didn’t bother with a light, just quickly turned to pacing as she tried to wrap her mind around just what in the world had happened.

After a few moments of oppressive silence, a knock came at her door. “What?” she snapped, whirling towards the sound.

“It’s Daya. Can I come in?” a voice asked softly from the other side.

Sighing, Altaira moved to the door and allowed her friend in. Once she moved across the threshold, Altaira shut the door again, with more force than intended; it rattled in the frame with an echoing bang.

Flipping around to face Daya, Altaira threw her hands in the air and exclaimed, “I lost!” As if it wasn’t already obvious.

“I’m sorry,” Daya attempted, trying to soothe her. She moved to the wall next to the door and flipped a light on as she added, “We’ll figure something else out.”

“No, we won’t! Creta was the oldest member of the council. The rest are healthy and young, and unless something goes wrong, they won’t be giving up their spots any time soon. Now I have no chance of joining the Council,” Altaira exclaimed.

“Hey, we managed with me,” Daya pointed out.

“That was just a stroke of luck,” Altaira sighed.

“A stroke of luck? My uncle died,” Daya pointed out.

Wincing slightly, Altaira quickly told her, “I know. I mean—” she sighed, not sure how to explain what she was thinking. She was too worked up to form a complete sentence.

Daya waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal. “I know what you mean,” she muttered. “He made things easy for me.” His passing had resulted in Daya’s surprising appointment to the council, something neither of them had expected but hadn’t protested. But the little influence with the council that had given them hadn’t been enough for Altaira to reach her goals, leading her to try and join her friend despite opposition. But once again, her plans failed.

Through her anger, she felt a spark of grief as her father came to mind. She had never met him that she could remember, but he was the reason for all her efforts to come into power amongst the Brotherhood. After hearing his story from her mother, she had sworn to avenge his wrongful death, which had been caused by corrupt former leaders of the Brotherhood.

She had thought, with the talent she had inherited from both of her parents and her determination to back it, she could quickly climb the ranks. With her newfound place of power, she could change the Brotherhood, so nobody had to suffer the same injustices he had. But to her annoyance, Mefune had been in the way from the beginning.

He had joined not long after she had. After meeting Mefune, she hadn’t worried much about him; he had been a scrawny, nervous kid, a stark contrast to Altaira’s confidence. She had almost pitied him, wondering if he would make it anywhere in the competitive and dangerous world that was the Brotherhood. Soon she started to impress her trainer and even those ranking high above him, and her success began to take shape.

But to her surprise, she found she wasn’t alone in her success; Mefune had kept with her, even surpassed her, in everything she did. As she grew in strength and skills, he did as well, to the point that Altaira found herself falling behind. It wasn’t long before her superiors had shifted their focus from her to him, almost forgetting Altaira in the process. Suddenly he wasn’t just the scrawny blond boy, but a very skilled, well-known fighter amongst the Brotherhood, and she his shadow, nothing more than second best. It was infuriating to think that once again she was stuck playing the shadow as he stole the spot on the council she had worked so hard to gain.

Her anger renewed, Altaira exclaimed her disgust again in a series of curses aimed at Mefune. Daya sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Maybe I’ll give you time to cool down. We can talk later.” She moved towards the door, but paused and glanced back, a concerned look in her brown eyes. “Just…don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

Altaira sighed, melting onto the couch next to her forgotten sword. “I won’t,” she grumbled as she leaned forward and rested her head in her hands. Unsatisfied, Daya hesitated, before giving in and leaving Altaira alone to sulk.

* * *

She didn’t wake the next morning until well into the afternoon, and when she did, she found she had little motivation to get up. The council would be holding a ceremony to make Mefune’s new position official, and she had no intention to attend. Since she didn’t have patrol that day, she decided to allow herself a day to sulk.

Around seven, she heard a knock on her door. At first, she ignored it, but when the knock came again, and more persistently, she sighed and dragged herself out of bed. Caring little for what she was wearing, she shuffled to the door.

Opening it a crack, she discovered Daya on the other side. Letting out a sigh, she told her, “No, I’m not dead, just sulking.”

“I figured,” Daya told her with a small, sympathetic smile. “But I’m not about to let you stay here and waste away. Despite what you think, all is not lost.”

“If you say so,” Altaira muttered, leaning her head against the doorframe. When it didn’t seem Daya had any intention of leaving, she glanced up and told her, “So what’s your scheme for resurrecting me from my dreary mood this time?”

“Ice cream and a movie,” Daya told her with a smile.

Altaira raised an eyebrow in surprise. “That means going to Verndale.” There was a movie theatre downtown, the only one on the island, and it hadn’t been around for very long. The Auraes were slow to accept technology. Getting a ticket could be tricky.

“Yup, and I paid good money for nice seats, so you’re not getting out of this one,” Daya told her with a smirk.

Altaira sighed, shaking her head, but she couldn’t resist a smile. “Fine, fine. Let me get dressed.” After she let her in, Daya took a seat on her couch while Altaira headed back to her room. Deciding she didn’t care much for dressing up, she threw on a simple t-shirt and jeans, and ran a brush through her hair. Then, remembering it was still early enough in spring to be pretty cold at night, she grabbed a jacket and her sneakers, and then headed out.

“You know I seriously hate you sometimes, right?” she grumbled as she started for the door.

Daya followed her out. “I know, I know. I’m the worst friend ever, taking you to a movie. What was I thinking?” she lamented with a shake of her head and a smirk.

Altaira rolled her eyes as she locked her door and started down the hall. “What horrible movie are you subjecting me to this time?”

“I think it was some romance. I don’t know, it was the last one with seats,” Daya informed her as she fell into step with her.

By the time the two reached Verndale, it was getting dark. Daya glanced at her watch. “The show doesn’t start for another half hour. Let’s grab ice cream first,” she decided. Altaira agreed, so they made their way to a small shop across the road from the park. It sat between a barber shop and a small bakery. The three buildings where some of the first built on the island after the town was founded, and the older design had been meticulously maintained. The bakery and ice cream parlor shared the patio outside, and they had just put the tables out for the season. It was lit by strings of soft white lights. The whole scene was surprisingly adorable, and one of Altaira’s favorite places in Verndale. She smiled slightly, knowing Daya was well aware of that fact and had brought her there on purpose.

The two bought their ice cream—Nutella for Altaira and traditional chocolate for Daya—and headed outside. Claiming a table, Daya plopped down and said, “See, now we can leave that duel and all of that behind us.”

Altaira smiled slightly. “Yeah. So how did the officiation go?”

Daya gave her a pointed look. “Did you not hear what I just said? We’re trying to forget all that, remember?”

“Well, yeah, but I’m just curious,” Altaira defended.

Daya shook her head slightly, but relented as she told her, “It went well, I guess. I’ll at least give him this: he did look great in that dress uniform.” Altaira scoffed, surprised her friend thought as much. Daya quickly defended, “Hey, even you have to admit he’s attractive.”

“I mean, if ‘I could kill the world with my bare hands without even blinking’ is your thing, then sure, he’s pretty good looking,” Altaira deadpanned.

Daya shook her head in exasperation.“You know, I really don’t believe the rumors about him.”

“The only one I think could be true is the one about Brandon,” Altair a admitted.

“You seriously think he killed him?” Daya asked, sounding surprised.

“I don’t know, you know he really bugged Mefune when we were kids. He wouldn’t give him a break. I think Mefune had enough and ended it, permanently. And,  he was the last person seen with  Brandon .”

“Yeah but that was days before he disappeared. And the council did a full investigation. They didn’t find anything that linked Mefune to his disappearance. They never even found a body. He might still be alive. He wouldn’t be the first recruit that ran away. Some people just don’t know what they’re getting themselves into when they join.”

Altaira shrugged. “Guess we’ll never know. Still don’t think I can trust him.”

Daya shrugged. “Enough about him though, seriously. Let’s just enjoy ourselves.” Altaira nodded. She didn’t want to dwell on the topic either, despite how she kept finding herself going back to it. The conversation switched to something lighter. After only a little while, Daya had her laughing, and she completely forgot about her troubles back home.

Just as they were about to leave, the door to the barber opened and out walked Gavin, Altaira’s brother. When she saw him, her smile immediately disappeared, and her gaze dropped to the table as she hunched her shoulders in an attempt to hide. Noticing the change, Daya glanced over her shoulder, and then shot Altaira a knowing look.

“Just pretend he’s not there, maybe he won’t notice me,” Altaira hissed.

But her luck was never that good. “Altaira?” Gavin called. She let out a quiet groan, and Daya’s lips pressed into a thin line, clearly annoyed her attempt to cheer Altaira up had been so completely thwarted.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Gavin stated as he approached the table.

Clearly, she wasn’t going to be able to avoid him, so Altaira forced a smile as she looked up to him and said, “Hey Gavin. Long time no see.”

“Yeah, I tried to visit yesterday, but the council wouldn’t let me in,” he told her.

“They were busy,” Altaira replied.

“With what?” Gavin immediately pressed, all too eager to delve into Altaira’s business as usual.

When Altaira didn’t answer, Daya smiled and told him, “Nothing important. We were just replacing a member of the council who passed away.”

Realization dawned on Gavin’s face, and Altaira shifted slightly, hoping he wouldn’t ask about the duel. She had only told him she was challenging Mefune to show him she was actually getting somewhere in terms of rank at the Brotherhood. Now she’d have to admit she had lost.

“Oh, that’s right, I remember now!” Gavin nodded. “You were competing for the spot, weren’t you?” Altaira only managed a sharp nod, knowing what question would come next and seeing no way to avoid it. “How did it go?”

Altaira found it impossible to answer without snapping at him. Clearly catching on to how she was feeling, Daya quickly responded, “You know, it didn’t go as planned, but I’m sure it won’t be her last opportunity.” Her tone was forcefully light as she clearly tried to zip past the issue.

Gavin frowned. “You lost?” He asked Altaira. She didn’t bother to answer. He shook his head slightly. “You know, I was really hoping this would work out for you. I’m sorry it didn’t. Maybe you’ll reconsider my offer to move back here, now?”

“Why would I do that? My entire life is at the Brotherhood,” Altaira responded, barely managing to keep her tone civil.

Gavin frowned slightly. “We’ve talked about this, Altaira. You have a life here too, you’ve just forgotten it in your obsession with avenging Alec,” he told her, his tone borderline condescending. He didn’t even have the decency to call him ‘father’. He hadn’t in a long while now, blaming him for the family’s troubles.

“Well, I wouldn’t say she’s obsessed—” Daya started with a light chuckle, attempting to smooth over the situation, but Altaira interrupted.

Standing, she stated, “You know what, I think we need to get going, Daya. Don’t want to be late.”

Daya stood, glancing warily between the siblings, clearly hoping they would manage to escape before things escalated. Altaira started away at a quick pace, and Daya hurried to catch up.

“Wait, Altaira!” Gavin called after them. She let out a sigh but reluctantly turned back to him. He quickly caught up. “I did have something important I wanted to ask the council about.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not on the council, so guess you’ll have to ask someone else,” Altaira griped, folding her arms against her chest.

“Yeah, but Daya is,” Gavin added, turning to the woman in question.

Daya glanced between the two, looking as though she were debating whether or not helping Gavin would somehow betray Altaira. When she didn’t leave, Daya finally turned to Gavin and stated, “I don’t know what help I can be, but what did you need?”

“Have any members of the Brotherhood ran into a new strain of Tarapor lately? Anything that might indicate the disease is now targeting auras?” he asked.

Daya’s brow furrowed in confusion, and she shook her head. “No, not that I can think of. We haven’t received any reports like these.” She glanced Altaira’s way, who nodded in agreement. “Why?”

Gavin gave her a small smile. “Nothing. Just something the Auraes were wondering about,” he told them, clearly dismissing their question.

Altaira rolled her eyes, grabbed Daya by the arm, and stated, “Let’s go.” Daya didn’t protest, and neither did Gavin, so Altaira was thankfully set free.

“I’m sorry we ran into him,” Daya told her once they were out of earshot.

“It’s not your fault. Seems just like my luck these days,” she muttered. Then, after a moment, she admitted, “I’ve been avoiding him ever since…”

“Since he pestered you about coming back again?” Daya finished.

Altaira nodded. She had no intention on abandoning her goals, but Gavin was convinced one day she would wake up and come crawling back to him like a child that needed comforting. He was only six years older than her, but he had spent so much of his time taking care of her and their mother when she was sick, he sometimes forgot he was her brother and not her father. And it infuriated Altaira to no end. He thought she was crazy for wanting to try and fix the corruption that had led to their father’s death, and for joining the Brotherhood. He just wanted a quiet life, and to overlook their family history. She could never settle for that.

By the time they reached the movie theatre, she had calmed down a bit, and somehow managed to enjoy the movie despite everything. But as she left, and her and Daya’s conversation over the film died out, she found herself reflecting back to her conversation with her brother. If anything, it made her even more motivated to try harder, if only to prove him wrong. She wasn’t done fighting for her goals yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now you've met some of my favorite characters. Is it really fair for me to have favorites? Who knows.
> 
> Let me know who your favorite is so far in the comments!


	4. Trouble Brewing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mefune investigates a warning Garrett gives him.

** Chapter Four **

** Trouble Brewing **

_** Mefune ** _

Life became a whirlwind of events for the next few days. Mefune found himself busier than he had ever been, but he enjoyed the faster pace. Despite having been close to Creta, he had never once stopped to consider all the work he put into maintaining the Brotherhood’s headquarters in his role as the council member over the base. Within the first few hours of holding the position himself, he quickly realized all that was required. This, on top of the overarching assignment of contributing to the governing of the Brotherhood and the regular patrols he still participated in, left him with plenty to do and much on his mind. Luckily, he came to understand his role quickly, so it became easy for him to keep on top of things.

On a slower night, Mefune took a much-needed moment to enjoy dinner alone in the dining hall of the Brotherhood. The hall was a large, low-roofed room filled with rows of tables. One side of the room was dominated by serving stations, where food was prepared and dished out. The room was always pleasantly lit and equally warm, and no matter what time of day it was, there was always people present, filling it with the quiet sound of conversation.

Mefune sat at a table near the back of the room and away from the crowds, enjoying his meal in peace. He was about finished when Garrett appeared across from him, claiming one of the empty seats at the table, a drink in hand. “Well, how’s the new job suiting you?” He asked.

“I’m enjoying myself,” Mefune answered honestly. “It’s a little hectic, but it’s good.”

Garrett nodded. “I figured you would be fine with it.” He paused for a minute, his gaze on the room around them, before eyeing Mefune. “What do you think of the other council members?”

Mefune didn’t answer for a moment, wondering what it was he was looking for. There was something about his words that made Mefune wonder if there wasn’t more to his comment, but he could only guess what. Eventually he replied simply, “Not sure yet.”

Garrett took a sip of his drink, and then shrugged. “Some of them are alright. But I would be careful of Samar and Darius. I don’t trust them.”

“Why?”

Garrett glanced around once again, leading Mefune to believe he was a bit paranoid people were listening in on their conversation. Then he turned to Mefune and met his gaze. “They’re planning something. I don’t know the details, but most of the council from off island is in on it, and possibly some of the ones here. They won’t like you. You won’t let them push you around. People like you, they don’t last long.”

“What do you mean?” Mefune asked warily, his gaze narrowing slightly.

Looking a bit remorseful, Garrett told him, “I don’t think it was disease that claimed Creta’s life.”

“What then?”

“Poison.” He stated it so confidently, Mefune was sure he had seen it. It honestly made more sense than Creta dying of disease anyway—the older man had spent a good portion of his life serving the Auraes as a Medic, and mere diseases were easy for him to treat. But, if he hadn’t known he was poisoned and couldn’t trace it back to the source, it could have been possible for it to claim him before he found a solution.

That meant Creta had been murdered. Thatchanged things. And if Garrett was correct, the council—specifically Samar and Darius—had something to do withit. Garrett had his full attention now.

“And he wasn’t the only one,” Garrett continued, the weight to his words leading Mefune to believe he intended this comment to be a warning. If Mefune wasn’t careful, Creta wouldn’t be the last death the council had caused.

“I see,” Mefune muttered. “I’ll keep an eye on them.” He paused, considering the information Garrett had given him, and then asked, “Why are you telling me this?”

With a small, wry smile, Garrett told him, “Mostly so you know I’m not involved.” With that, he quickly finished his drink and stood. “Nice talking with you. See you around.”

Before he could get far, a man approached and informed them Samar was waiting for the council to gather. Garrett seemed surprised. “A meeting wasn’t planned for tonight. Has something come up?”

“I wasn’t given any details,” the informant replied with a shrug. “He just told me to find and inform the council members.” Garrett glanced to Mefune, and the two shared a knowing look; a spontaneous meeting at such a late hour wouldn’t be called for any small matter.

“Well, guess we better get going then,” Mefune decided as he stood, abandoning the remains of his dinner.

When they arrived, they took their seats as the rest of the council joined them. Glancing at the others with him, Mefune quickly noticed Darius was scowling at the ground, and Samar seemed a bit upset too, though he made more of an effort to hide it. It also surprised him to realize there were more members present than usual; four international members had joined them, all people Mefune didn’t recognize. The Brotherhood was a vast organization, with secret bases throughout most of the world to deal with the spread of Tarapor beyond Raidenya’s shores. But, because of the isolation the Auraes insisted on, it was rare the International members interacted with headquarters on Raidenya directly. They communicated via magic through the assistance of the Auraes, and relied on regular reports to coordinate their efforts. If there were International members of the council present on Raidenya, it must be for some critical need, or the Auraes never would have given permission for them to travel to the island.

Samar began the meeting with a huff, bringing Mefune from his thoughts. “I have news from Verndale. The Auraes are unhappy.”

“Why?” Daya asked, sounding confused. Mefune couldn’t help but agree; with Creta’s death and the subsequent events, Samar had been forced to miss meetings in Verndale, leaving them with little news of what was happening amongst the Auraes.

“They think we aren’t keeping the Tarapor under control,” Samar grumbled. “There have been recent deaths amongst them, and they’re blaming us.”

Mefune’s brow furrowed in confusion, wondering where this had come from. The Auraes relied on the Brotherhood to control the diseased monsters because their Magics had no effect on them. They had always been grateful for what the Brotherhood did. He couldn’t help but doubt they would risk jeopardizing the relationship they had with the Brotherhood by angering the Council. In the past, they had been understanding of any surges in Tarapor attacks, knowing their task wasn’t an easy one.

When Garrett muttered something along the same lines as Mefune’s thoughts, he realized he wasn’t alone in his wondering. Others seemed confused as well.

Samar nodded, obviously agreeing. “Usually that would be the case, but ten people have died. They’re so frenzied they’re quick to blame us.” He scowled. “I’ve never liked working with them. They take advantage of us, with little more than words of gratitude in return.”

“I can’t understand how Tarapor are the cause of these deaths,” Ezequiel exclaimed with an exasperated gesture. “We cleared them out near the city, and there’s always a patrol or two nearby. The only Tarapor left on the island are so deep in the forest we don’t even bother with them unless they venture closer.”

“I don’t think these attacks are Tarapor either, but the Aurae was insistent,” Samar stated. Mefune began to wish he could have been present for this conversation. Something about Samar’s retelling seemed off, and Garrett’s warning from earlier still echoed in his mind.

“So, what do we do about this?” Darius ventured.

Samar sighed, sounding reluctant. “We’ll just have to do what we can to reassure them we’re still doing our job and hope they don’t retaliate in their anger.” He paused for a minute, contemplating their options. “Let’s send out two extra patrols daily until things calm down. Send them near the city. That’ll guarantee there aren’t any Tarapor near Verndale and will allow the Auraes to see us working. Have them make a point to enter the city.”

The others agreed, and the word was spread among the Brotherhood as new assignments went out. As the changes took effect, Mefune could feel a bit of tension from the decision; the Brotherhood was already stretched thin, trying to keep the whole world safe from the Tarapor. Many blamed the Auraes for their troubles, and Mefune couldn’t help but notice Samar and Darius seemed to encourage it, as well as some of the visiting council members.

Deciding he needed to figure out what was going on, Mefune decided to approach Samar. Despite Garrett’s warning, he wasn’t afraid of the council leader. Creta’s greatest weakness had been his overwhelming ability to trust people long after they had proven they shouldn’t be trusted. He never would have suspected his comrades would do him harm. In contrast, Mefune knew what the world could dish up and wasn’t afraid to face it. Now that he knew Samar was possibly dangerous, he would be cautious, but wasn’t overly concerned.

Near the council room, there was a set of offices for the council leaders. It took a few days to find an opportunity, but one night, Mefune found Samar alone in his office long after everyone else had left. Seeing his chance, he stepped in and closed the door behind him. Samar glanced up from his work, one eyebrow raised in surprise.

“We need to talk,” Mefune stated softly.

“It would seem so,” Samar mused.

“Word is, you’re planning something.”

“And who told you this?” Samar wondered. He seemed more amused than concerned Mefune was asking about what he had assumed would be a sensitive matter.

Mefune shrugged. “Does it matter? I want to know what it’s about.”

Samar considered him in silence for a long moment. “I don’t take threats lightly,” he stated, his voice as soft as Mefune’s, his cold gaze meeting his without wavering.

“The only threat there was one that you implied,” Mefune corrected.

“Hmm,” Samar muttered with a small, mirthless smile. “I’ve heard things about you, Mefune. People say you’ll stop at nothing to get what you want. You’d even kill, if necessary. Are these rumors true?”

This wasn’t the first time Mefune had heard of those particular rumors. He was somewhat amazed they were still circling, though he admittedly hadn’t done anything to squash them. Though he wasn’t entirely sure what had started them, he had to admit, sometimes the reputation they gave him came in handy. It kept people out of his business and out of his way.

And now, that reputation would definitely be useful.  “Perhaps,” he stated evenly.

“I’m inclined to believe them,” Samar admitted. He stood and made his way around the desk. “Why do you want to know of my plans so badly?”

“They involve the Auraes, don’t they?” Mefune asked.

“They do.”

“I want to help.”

“And why should I trust you?” Samar mused as he leaned against his desk.

“If I had wanted to expose you, do you think I would have bothered to pester you about the details? I already know enough to incriminate you,” Mefune warned. Allowing the smallest hint of a smile, he added, “Besides, I would hate to make the rumors about myself true.”

“As would I,” Samar agreed. His smile seemed a bit more strained. But, after a pause, he brightened a bit. “Luckily, I could have use for someone like you.”

He fell silent for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “The Auraes have been…pushy lately . It’s caused a bit of tension between us and them, as you’ve probably noticed. I see it as an opportunity. ”

Mefune raised an eyebrow in surprise. “An opportunity? What do you mean?” He couldn’t see how angry Auraes would benefit them any.

“ We’ve protected and served them for decades now, but they give us little say in the governing of the island and place huge restrictions on our operations. There are many council members abroad who want to expand our efforts to fight the Tarapor, but the Auraes are so stubborn they refuse to allow it. They claim we’ll jeopardize their safety in the process. But they don’t understand what it’s like to fight these things, to watch as they take advantage of our lack of numbers and slaughter innocents. The Brotherhood would do anything to put an end to this struggle, but as long as the Auraes are in full power, we’ll never get that wish.”

He paused for just a moment, whether for effect or to gather his courage to drive home his point and face Mefune’s reaction, Mefune wasn’t sure. “I intend to take the power we need .”

“Why not just move forward without their approval?” Mefune wondered.

“We tried. The failed base in Moscow wasn’t because of a lack of supplies, like we told the public. The Auraes shut us down.”

It took Mefune a minute to think of what incident Samar was referring to. “That was…six months ago,” he mused.

Samar nodded. “The council kept it under wraps, because we didn’t want to cause conflict. But now the Auraes are starting to throw the deaths they suffer at our feet, with no proof the Tarapor are even involved.” Though his voice remained even, Mefune noticed the first signs of anger as his hands tightened into fists and he slowly frowned. “So, I’m going to show them what it would really be like if we stopped fighting the Tarapor.”

“You’re going to stop protecting the city?” Mefune asked, unable to completely keep the surprise from his voice.

“Not exactly,” Samar clarified with a small shake of his head. “Just abandoning our guard would make us look negligent, not powerful. I intend to capture Tarapor and let them loose in the city, and then make it clear we allowed it on purpose, but that we’re willing to stop it if the Auraes are willing to agree to a new arrangement.”

“Hmm…” Mefune mused, debating this for a moment. “What makes you think the Auraes won’t just retaliate?”

“They wouldn’t dare, not after they realize how easily we can turn our enemy upon them,” Samar dismissed. Mefune couldn’t help but think he was forgetting the might of the Auraes. He was definitely overlooking the people that would be caught in the middle of such a fight. It seemed, despite the original cover of good intentions, Samar’s plan was entirely focused on the power he could gain.

Power which Mefune wasn’t about to hand over to him. But he realized there were still many details he didn’t know, like how far Samar’s reach went, or how he could stop him. In a split-second decision, he came to the conclusion the easiest solution would be to get Samar to trust him with those details, instead of hunting them down himself.

“Well,” he mused, smiling slightly. “What can I do to help?”

Samar seemed a bit surprised, but then his expression turned to one of triumph as he slowly smirked. “I need you to capture some Tarapor for me.”

Mefune nodded. “That shouldn’t be too hard. How many?”

“As many as you can,” Samar requested. “The timing of everything is still up in the air, but I’d like to be prepared.”

Mefune nodded. “I better get started then,” he mused. With that, he turned towards the door. “Oh, keep me informed with the details, will you? I’m interested to see how this will play out.”

“Of course,” Samar readily agreed.

As Mefune stepped out, to his surprise, Garrett appeared at his side not long after they were out of earshot of Samar’s office . “What was that about?” he wondered.

“I just mildly threatened details out of Samar and then lead him to believe I’m willing to help him with his plan,” Mefune admitted with a small shrug.

Garrett blinked in surprise and glanced over his shoulder at Samar’s closed door. “Wow. That was easy.”

“Too easy. He’s still hiding things. He clearly doesn’t trust me,” Mefune mused. “But I’ll learn the rest eventually.”

“I’m amazed Samar gave you anything,” Garrett mused.

Mefune shrugged slightly. “I get the feeling he was looking to recruit. And besides, I apparently can be pretty intimidating.”

Garrett gave an allowing shrug, not about to argue that point. “So what is he trying to do? ”

“Not here,” Mefune decided, and gestured for him to follow. Stepping into his own office several doors down, Mefune closed the door behind him and then explained Samar’s plan.

As he finished, Garrett let out a dejected sigh. “All over a little disagreement in Moscow,” he grumbled.

“Is this really what this is about?” Mefune wondered.

Garrett shrugged. “I doubt it. But that’s just when Samar first became bold enough to state his dislike of the Auraes. It’s also when opinions began to turn against Creta. He…spoke in favor of the Auraes’ decision. The base in Moscow was ill-planned and ill-timed. We had no business being up there, but most of the council, and especially Samar, really hated being told they were wrong.”

“Hmm. Samar seems to like using situations to say the public,” Mefune muttered, debating what all this could mean. “I’ll do what I can to find out details of his plan. In the meantime, we need to think of a counter plan. We can’t allow this to get so out of hand. A lot of people are going to die if he gets his way, on both sides of this argument.”

“How many support him?” Garrett wondered.

“He alluded to several amongst the International council, and I get the feeling he at least has Darius and Ezequiel’s support here on the island.”

“And the general populace is already souring towards the Auraes because of the strain their extra demands are placing on us, so it won’t be long before he has their backing,” Garrett added, looking worried. “He might actually have the support to pull this off.”

Mefune frowned, realizing just how quickly the situation could get out of hand. With things as tense as they were amongst the Auraes, he wouldn’t be surprised if a full-scale war broke out over this. “We need to remove his support. See what we can do to sway public opinion against him.”

Garrett shifted uncomfortably. “Speaking out against him isn’t the best plan.”

“Why?”

“He poisoned a man to protect his plans,” Garrett reminded him with a pointed look. “A good portion of the council is loyal to him. Even if we did bring this evidence forward, nobody will back us.”

“Then we take it to the Auraes.”

“With people like Ila on the Aurae Council? That’ll just fuel the flames. Have you seen her? She’s almost as ridiculous as Samar,” Garrett pointed out.

“Mariea’s in charge,” Mefune reminded him.

“Only superficially,” Garrett countered with a dismissive wave of his hand. “The minute we tell Ila the Brotherhood council is acting against the Auraes, she won’t stop yelling for justice until Mariea caves, and from what you just told me, if the Auraes moved against us now, Samar would be all too willing to act in kind and we’d still have a war on our hands.”

Mefune didn’t answer for a long moment. He did have to admit Mariea deferred to her councilors more often than he thought wise. There was a chance Garret was right. But it still left him frustratingly without answers to their current problem. “We have to do something,” he protested, trying not to grow frustrated.

Garrett gave a dejected shrug. “I’m just trying not to start a war. Or end up in an early grave.”

The two fell silent, clearly stuck on the issue. After a moment, Mefune cautiously suggested, “What if we didn’t address the overthrow he’s clearly trying to pull, but instead focused on some of the smaller crimes the council has pulled?”

“Like what?”

“You and I both know there’s plenty of corruption among the men and women on that council. All we need is proof. Like proof of Creta’s death, for instance,” Mefune suggested.

“Sadly, I have none. At least, none that would hold up in court. But there’s a chance we could dig up information about other members of the council. Though, if we do this, won’t it lead to the same result? Angry Ila, angry Samar, etcetera,” he wondered with a rotating motion of his hand.

Mefune shook his head slightly. “If we play it right, I don’t think so. We use Ila’s hatred of the council to our advantage by feeding her one lead at a time. Without a big enough threat, she’ll never be able to convince Mariea to do anything irrational. But she’ll be more than happy to remove even one member, and Mariea won’t argue if we have evidence. And instead of being able to use the Aurae’s attacks as fuel for their martyr complex, Samar and his ilk will be scrambling to hide their corruption from the people, which we’ll make sure gets out. This will break up their support among the general populace.”

Garrett considered this for a moment, and then shrugged slightly. “It’s something of a plan, at least.” Then he glanced to Mefune warily. “I’ll do what I can to help, but I don’t want to end up taking the fall for this.”

“I guess I’ll do the digging then,” Mefune reluctantly agreed. “There’s just one more thing we’ll need to consider; if we manage to remove his supporters on the council, we’ll have to make sure they’re replaced by people who aren’t loyal to him.”

“Which would be who?”

“Good question,” Mefune grumbled. “Any ideas?”

“I guess I don’t have a good enough feel of the general populous to be sure of anyone, but I can do some listening,” Garrett suggested.

Mefune nodded. Then Garrett shook his head, smiling softly in disbelief. “When I warned you to be careful of Samar, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

“Well, when I realized this may be bigger than petty power play amongst ourselves, I knew I had to look into it,” Mefune admitted. “I’m not about to stand by and let Samar destroy the Brotherhood. Not if I can help it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of those chapters I've rewritten a thousand times, so hopefully all the details finally make sense. Let me know what you thought!


	5. Acting on the Warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mariea gets more encouragement to leave the island in search of answers.

** Chapter Five **

** Acting on the Warning **

_** Mariea ** _

Mariea floated in a white expanse of nothingness, a passive numbness settling over her mind and body. Somewhere in the back of her mind she vaguely remembered falling asleep, but reality and all its problems seemed a million miles away. Willing to allow them to remain that way, she let out a content sigh—which, oddly enough, made no noise. It was amazing to her just how quiet it was; like a forest caught in the grasp of a heavy, slow snowfall, the lack of sound was obvious but not unwanted. Mariea allowed her gaze to slide closed as she settled on the idea of just relaxing.

But, before she could completely slip away, a gentle blue light pulsed to life at her left, drawing her attention. Blinking, she turned to it, her curiosity piqued by its sudden appearance. It looked much like a messenger spell—a simple orb of auric power—but it seemed unusually large, like the message it carried was bulky. As she thought of moving towards it, she began floating forward, her body moving without any effort on her part.

When she stood before the light, she slowly reached out a hand for it, before hesitating. She was content to stay in the problem free void she had found herself in, and part of her worried the light would be the way out. But the longer she stared at it, the more curious she became. Eventually, she gave in, reaching out to touch its surprisingly smooth surface.

Warmth spread from her hand and into her body as her fingers passed through its surface, making her realize how cold she was. Streams of color suddenly burst from the ball of light, slowly filling the void with life. Mariea watched as a picture slowly formed before her; she could make out a blurry silhouette surrounded by a cream and gold landscape. Eventually, the image of a woman appeared before her, but her backdrop remained blurry.

The woman seemed to finally take solid form, and then she turned her gaze to Mariea. She was taller than Mariea and had an ageless quality to her, as if time seemed to have no effect on her. There was a definite sadness to the deep blue of her eyes and the bittersweet tilt of her half-smile. Her warm brown hair stood out in contrast to the white of her long dress.

“Mariea,” she stated with the fondness of someone who knew her well. “The past has been forgotten, but it needs to be remembered.”

“What?” Mariea wondered, confused by her statement. It didn’t help that she spoke in Shidokian, which Mariea knew but wasn’t entirely fluent in. It took twice as long for her to understand what she had said then was necessary.

Suddenly the woman disappeared, replaced by flashes from Mariea’s nightmares, making her flinch back as a shudder of fear passed through her. If this was what the woman was bringing to her, she wanted no part in it. But after a moment of watching, she realized it was no longer herself fighting for her life, but the woman before her.

“You must come to my home,” the woman stated as she reappeared. “You must learn of what happened. Follow the dreams. They will guide you. Trust in what you see,” the woman told her. She disappeared again, replaced by glimpses of familiar streets. Realizing the images were of New York, realization dawned.

“You want me to come to New York?”

The woman seemed to miss what Mariea had asked. “Please hurry. Time is short, and everything depends on you knowing,” she warned. Everything slowly faded to black, but not before Mariea was once again surrounded in the haunting images of her nightmares, the scenes all too real and encompassing.

Jolting up in bed, Mariea quickly scanned her surroundings, searching for the woman, but as she took in her room, she realized the dream was over. Sighing, she rubbed a hand over her face, laying back down. She mulled the dream over repeatedly, wondering what dark crevice of her mind it had come from. It was slightly better than the usual nightmares but it still left her with the same feeling of dread.

Before she could get herself to fall asleep again, the blaring of her alarm clock informed her it was morning. Sighing, she turned it off, silently grumbling about how much she hated its noise.

As usual, it took a long while for her to shake off the weight of the dreams and move on, but this time, she found it nearly impossible to push the woman’s message from her mind. It permeated every quiet moment, more so than any of the nightmares ever had. Once she began teaching, she was able to focus better, but the woman and her vague warning tugged on her mind all day, accompanied by fleeting images of New York flashing behind her eyelids every time she closed her eyes.

During her lunch break, she sought out Bracken and took the opportunity to tell him about the dream. As she explained, he sat in silence, contemplating the added information. When she finished, he asked, “You think this was connected to the dreams from before?”

“The nightmares?” she asked. Bracken nodded in confirmation. “I’m sure of it. Maybe this woman was sending them to me somehow, trying to warn me. This last dream definitely felt like a warning.”

Bracken shrugged. “Maybe,” he muttered, looking wary of the idea. Mareia couldn’t help but wonder why. She felt as though she was finally getting answers, but he didn’t seem all that interested in them.

After a pause, he carefully asked, “Did she happen to mention what she was trying to warn you about exactly?”

“No,” Mariea sighed. Bracken looked disappointed. “But there is a way I could find out,” she added carefully, knowing what she was about to suggest wouldn’t sit well with Bracken.

His gaze met hers, a knowing glint in their dark depths. “You aren’t suggesting…” he started.

“Going to New York? That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.”

One eyebrow raised, Bracken mused, “That’s a long, possibly dangerous journey just for a dream and a gut feeling.”

“But I have to know if this is real,” Mariea pressed, forcing the annoyance from her voice. After all he had done to try and help her, she didn’t want to take out her frustration on him. “These have to be more than just dreams. Either that, or I’m going insane.”

Bracken sighed. “I mean, if we were certain, then I would jump at the idea of going. But there’s so much to consider with such a trip. The world out there, it’s dangerous for Auraes.”

“We don’t even know if the auraless would attack us,” Mariea griped as she folded her arms against her chest.

“Every time we’ve interacted with the _Shikani_ in the past, they’ve immediately reacted in violence,” Bracken countered, using the Shidokian word for those without auras. “It’s like it’s engrained in their DNA to hate and attack us. You know the history as well as I do, so I won’t bother recounting it all.”

Mariea let out a small, annoyed sigh. She hated it when he brought in history to their debates, because he almost always won when he did. Reluctantly, she had to admit he had a point—she had seen a glimpse of their almost immediate hostility when her aura had first appeared while still living in New York. If it weren’t for the Brotherhood stepping in, she wasn’t entirely sure what that hostility would have led them to do.

“I guess we’ll just let it go, at least until I learn more,” she reluctantly muttered.

He nodded, looking relieved, but still slightly wary. She could only imagine what he was thinking. _He’s probably wondering what’s possessed his wife,_ she thought. It wasn’t like Mariea to do things on a whim, especially not something as crazy as leaving Raidenya. But often the Auraes forgot their leader hadn’t been born on the island. Mariea was familiar with the world, its dangers, and how to get around undetected. _I would be fine. If this keeps up, I’m going,_ she decided. She wasn’t about to allow some unknown danger to destroy her home and kin if she could avoid it.

After a moment, Bracken changed the subject. “Jordan was wondering if we wanted to come to his place for dinner on Sunday.”

It took Mariea a moment to pull herself from her thoughts enough to form a response. “That should be fine.”

“Are you sure you’re okay to go? You know Jordan’s kids can be a handful. If you’re not feeling up to it, we don’t have to,” Bracken stated.

Forcing a smile, she shook her head. “No, I want to go. You know I like your brother’s family. As long as it’s just Jordan and not all three of your brothers, it doesn’t get too crazy. Besides, I don’t want to stop living just because of a couple of dreams.”

Bracken nodded, despite seeming a little uncertain. “Alright, I’ll tell him we’ll be there.”

Eventually, they finished their lunches and parted ways. After her last class, Mariea stopped by her office at the capitol building to finish some quick paperwork and check in on a few projects she was managing around the city. Just as the sun began to set, she started packing up her things, ready to head home, when she heard a knock on her door.

“Come in,” she called, and Gavin opened the door.

“If you have a moment, I wanted to tell you what happened when I went to see the Brotherhood,” he informed her.

“Sure,” she agreed, gesturing to the seats across her desk.

Gavin claimed one and then began. “The Brotherhood Council wouldn’t see me. There was a lot going on, so I think it’s because they’re busy, but it still seems a bit…suspicious.”

“Hmm,” Mariea muttered, frowning slightly. “I guess we’ll just have to ask them what they know during the meeting, assuming they’ll actually show.”

“I did learn a bit,” Gavin admitted. “I ran into a member of the council I know in town, and she told me she hasn’t heard anything about a new type of Tarapor.”

“Interesting.” It was odd to Mariea that the Brotherhood wouldn’t encounter them, considering how heavily involved with the Tarapor they were. Maybe the problems weren’t related. “Well, thanks for telling me. I guess we’ll just have to look for answers elsewhere, won’t we?”

“I guess,” Gavin muttered, but he didn’t sound convinced. Like many of the Auraes, it seemed he had a hard time trusting the Brotherhood. As he left, Mariea let out a little sigh. _Will this conflict never fully go away?_ She wondered. The incident in Moscow had been one of the first things she had dealt with after being elected. It had happened three months before her election, and yet, the tension was still palpable when she had taken her place amongst the council. For the most part, she had managed to convince everyone to move past the issue, but the deep seeded resentment between some of the leaders refused to fully fade, making trust difficult.

Adding it to the list of things she had to worry about, Mariea numbly gathered her things and headed home, wondering if Bracken wasn’t right—maybe the stress was getting to be too much after all.

* * *

The same message came to Mariea again for the next three nights. Eventually, it no longer disturbed her sleep, and it was a welcome relief to the nightmares. But she couldn’t ignore the message. It taunted her, but she had no idea what it meant. And she still wasn’t sure she was willing to leave her home to follow it. Not when there was so much going on.

Sunday came, and Mariea found herself grateful for the time to spend with her family. Jordan lived with his wife and two daughters in a house on the edge of town, about a ten-minute walk from Mariea and Bracken’s. Because the weather was nice and Mariea was feeling good, they decided to walk.

She and Bracken arrived at Jordan’s house just before dinner. His wife, Nora, met them at the door, along with her two daughters, each clinging to one leg.

“Yay Aunt is here!” One of the girls squealed as she rushed towards Mariea.

She grinned and bent to catch her, barely managing to keep her balance as she slammed into her, giggling. “Hey Emilie, it’s good to see you,” Mariea greeted.

It wasn’t more than a minute before the younger girl, Rylee, joined her sister, though she didn’t come with nearly as much force.

Nora smiled at her girls, resting a hand on her hip. “They’ve been waiting for you two all day.”

Bracken shook his head. “Seems they were only excited to see Mariea,” he teased.

Mariea scooped up the two and took a step towards her husband. “Of course. I spoil them rotten. It’s no wonder I’m their favorite.” Bracken shook his head with a small smile, not about to argue. He knew it was true.

“Come on,” Nora told her, motioning them inside. Bracken followed, and Mariea carried the girls inside.

Inside, Jordan poked his head out from the kitchen. “Hey family! Dinner’s just about done!” he called.

“Sounds good!” Bracken stated with a smile. He headed for the kitchen to see what he could do to help, so Mariea carried the girls into the living room to play with them for a bit.

Dinner passed uneventfully, and then the girls went to play upstairs. After they finished cleaning up, Mara and Jordan invited Bracken and Mariea into the living room.

Mara sunk onto the couch with a sigh and pulled off the scarf she wore around her hair, letting it fall free. “So, how has work been treating the two of you?” she asked, glancing between Bracken and Mariea.

“Busy as always,” Mariea replied with a weak smile. She didn’t want to talk about work, not with everything going on. She doubted Nora was all that interested in her teaching career.

“Come now, I know how crazy things are getting. Jordan has told me. So how is it really?” she insisted.

Mariea sighed, knowing she wouldn’t be able to convince Nora to drop the issue. Her sister-in-law hated knowing her family was ill or unhappy for whatever reason. But she also didn’t want to admit she was struggling to maintain the peace. “It’s been…messy lately,” she finally admitted. “But we’re getting to the bottom of the issue.”

“That’s good to hear,” Jordan said with a sigh. Glancing at him, Mariea was surprised to see just how stressed he seemed. Jordan was very much like Bracken in appearance, so much so Mariea joked they should have been twins. But Jordan was nothing like him in personality. Where Bracken was soft-spoken and gentle, Jordan was stubborn and sometimes disagreeable. But it came with the job—he had one of the hardest on the entire island. Being a Sentinel wasn’t easy. Especially now. She couldn’t imagine what he was going through.

And now she had accidentally given him false hope. But it wasn’t like she could take back what she had said. It left her feeling stuck for a moment, shifting slightly to avoid Jordan’s gaze.

Luckily, Bracken took advantage of the silence to ask his brother a question. “Have you seen these things? Whatever it is that’s attacking the city?”

Jordan shook his head. “Luckily, no. But I’ve been on mandatory leave this whole week.”

“Why?” Bracken demanded. “Did you get hurt again?”

Jordan managed a sheepish smile. “No, no. I just hadn’t had a day off in what…a month? I guess I forgot to request my day.” He shrugged slightly.

Nora glared at him. “That’s not true. They were short men on his shift so he volunteered for the extra hours. Left me all alone with the babies for days.”

“Yeah, when Jocelyn found out, she literally told me, ‘are you trying to wreck your marriage? Go home and don’t come back until Nora’s not mad at you,’” Jordan told them.

The four shared a laugh. “I can see her saying that,” Bracken mused.

“Yeah, so when she calls to bring him back in I’m going to tell her I’m still mad so I can keep him home longer,” Nora smiled, a mischievous grin on the corner of her mouth.

Mariea laughed. “Man, wished I could use that with Bracken. Unfortunately, he’s his own boss. Sometimes I can’t drag him out of his lab for days!”

They all laughed again. That was one thing the two brothers shared—they were dedicated to what they did. Then the conversation changed gears, and, thankfully, stayed on safer topics the rest of the evening.

Eventually, it began to grow dark, and Nora wanted to put the girls to bed. “I guess we better head home,” Mariea decided, glancing to Bracken.

“Yeah. Don’t want to be out too late,” Bracken muttered, glancing out the window. Mariea frowned slightly, realizing why he was nervous. Most of the attacks had happened after dark.

“Alright. Let me send you home with some food,” Nora stated as she stood.

“Oh, no, that’s fine Nora, you don’t have to,” Bracken protested.

The two kept bickering for a moment more, but then Jordan abruptly called for them to stop. They all turned to him in surprise, wondering what had called for such sharpness. “Is something wrong?” Nora asked.

“Did you hear the scream?” he asked. Mariea glanced to Bracken and Nora, who both shook their heads. She shrugged, shaking her head as well.

Jordan didn’t respond, his gaze unfocused, wisps of his dark amber aura appearing around him. “Jordan?” Nora called, her brow furrowing in concern as she stepped towards him, resting a hand on his elbow.

He blinked, looking up to Bracken. “You need to go now, if you want to make it home. Something’s happening, but I can’t get a good read on what. Come on, I’ll escort you home.”

“I knew we should have drove,” Bracken muttered as he pulled on his coat.

“I’m sorry, that was my idea,” Mariea stated as she hurried to gather her things as well.

“Oh, please be safe,” Nora called, following after them. She met Jordan’s gaze and ordered, “You come home quick.”

He nodded and stole a quick kiss. “Make sure the girls stay inside. Lock the door after we’re gone. I’ve got my key.”

Nora nodded, so Jordan stepped outside, Mariea and Bracken following.

They started down the street, which was mostly empty save a few others heading home. Bracken took Mariea’s hand and pulled her close, his gaze scanning their surroundings. Mariea kept watching Jordan, hoping to pick up on some cue from him to help her figure out what was happening, but it was impossible to read him.

A noise down the street made Mariea jump and Jordan raise a hand to pause them. Mariea edged closer to Bracken, her heart racing slightly. It wasn’t like she was incapable of protecting herself, but she knew whatever was attacking the city had killed sentinels. She knew her limitations. She wasn’t a fighter. And neither was Bracken, really. Spells weren’t good in a fight. She just had to hope Jordan could fend off whoever it was alone.

Jordan had remained silent, his eyes closed and his aura flowing around him freely. “There’s a fight up the street. Let’s take a different route.”

“Should we help?” Bracken asked.

Jordan shook his head. “I’m not about to risk you and Mariea. I’ll get you home first, then I’ll come back and help.”

He motioned them forward, turning down a less familiar street, hurrying past darkened rows of houses, his aura still surrounding him. Mariea found herself constantly glancing over her shoulder, wondering if whatever it was would finish that fight and find them next. Without a face for the attacker, her imagination quickly created plenty of gruesome images of what it could be to fill the gap. The longer it went on the more scared she became, to the point that her hands were shaking and she felt the urge to run the rest of the way home.

When their house finally came into view, Mariea audibly sighed in relief despite her attempts to remain composed. She fumbled in her pocket for the keys and unlocked the door with shaky hands, while Bracken and Jordan stood watch at the bottom of the stairs. Stepping inside, she motioned for the other two to follow. Bracken did, but Jordan hesitated.

“I’ll start back. I think…whatever it was is gone. I can’t sense it anymore,” he told them.

“You could sense it? What was it like?” Bracken asked.

Jordan didn’t answer for a moment, his gaze on the streets below them. Then he sighed. “Dark. I don’t know. It didn’t feel like anything I’d sensed before. Like an aura, but…different.”

For a moment, it seemed neither knew what to say, but then Bracken stated, “Well, let me know when you get home, alright?”

Jordan nodded. “Be careful. If I were you, I’d consider enforcing a curfew.”

Mariea nodded. “I’ll bring it up on Thursday.”

Jordan nodded again, and then hurried down the stairs. Bracken watched him go for a minute, clearly worried for his brother, before Mariea reached out and pulled him inside. She shut the door behind him, locked it, and then leaned against it with a sigh. Her heart refused to settle.

It seemed the pair were frozen in the narrow entryway, neither wanting to break thetense silence their fear had created. “When did our home become this?” Bracken wondered softly.

“I don’t know,” Mariea agreed with a shake of her head. “But I don’t like it.” Her shoulders slumped slightly, and she met Bracken’s gaze. “I’m failing everyone. Someone might have died tonight.” She folded her arms against her chest, frowning as her anxiety and fear only grew.

“You’re not failing,” Bracken quickly replied. He took a step closer to pull her towards him, running his hands along her arms comfortingly. “You can’t expect to have all the answers.”

“I guess,” she muttered. She had hoped her tenure as chancellor would be short and uneventful. It seemed that wouldn’t be the case.

“Come on. There’s nothing we can do about it tonight,” he told her before he gently began pulling her away from the door.

They spent a little time waiting for Jordan’s message. When they knew he was home safe, Mariea headed for bed, surprisingly exhausted. But she struggled to fall asleep, her mind playing over the events of the evening relentlessly. She couldn’t help but wonder once again what she was supposed to do.

It was no surprise then when the mysterious woman’s warning came to her again. It was the only thing close to a possible solution she had ever received, and she dwelt on it almost as frequently as she had the nightmares.

But this night, there was one part that was different. Just before the image ended and she woke again, the woman told her, “I know you are struggling. I want to help. Please come.”

* * *

Once again, Mariea gathered with the Aurae Council. She was running late, so she figured the rest of the council would already be present. As she entered the room and glanced around, she was delighted to see Samar was present for the first time in a long while.

When Ila joined her, she leaned close as she sat down and muttered, “We’re grateful you condoned to grace us with your presence, Samar.” Her words dripped with sarcasm, an only half hidden smirk playing at the corner of her lips. Mariea couldn’t help but chuckle, feeling much the same, if not quite as annoyed.

Glancing at Samar, Mariea noted she hadn’t met the man sitting next to him. Often Samar brought a member of the Brotherhood’s smaller governing council as the second representative from the Brotherhood, but on rare occasions, he would choose someone from the general audience. This was usually when there was something specific he needed to report on, and someone had more details than he or another member of the council could provide.

Samar glanced her way and dipped his head in greeting. “Mariea.”

“It’s good to have you back,” she said with a smile.

His smile turned a bit strained, but his voice remained civil. “I apologize for the unintended long absence. We had internal matters to attend to.” Then, glancing at his comrade, he added, “This is Mefune, the newest member of the Brotherhood Council. He replaced Creta.”

“Ah. Nice to meet you, Mefune,” Mariea greeted. “I’m Mariea.”

“Likewise,” Mefune agreed politely with a dip of his head. “I look forward to working with all of you.” His words carried the faintest hint of an accent, making Mariea wonder where he was from.

“It will be good to have a fresh perspective on things, I think,” she mused with a smile. Then her attention was drawn elsewhere by something Ila tapping her arm.

“Mariea, do you think the weather will stay nice this weekend?” Ila asked, but she seemed unfocused. Her gaze trailed towards Mefune, narrowed slightly in suspicion.

Mariea looked at her in confusion, wondering why in the world she was talking about the weather. It wasn’t really like Ila to dwell on mundane topics. She glanced back to Mefune, wondering what Ila’s fascination with him was.

When Mefune turned away and began conversing with Samar, Ila whispered, “I don’t like the new guy.”

“Why?” Mariea questioned.

“There’s something off about him,” Ila replied.

Mariea raised an eyebrow and turned back to him, trying to see what Ila was getting at without staring. He was tall, with a pale complexion, lean build, and white-blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. He had the look of a fighter, as did most of the Brotherhood, and seemed a bit older than Mariea. He was dressed in the formal attire of the Brotherhood; a crisp black uniform jacket, dark pants, and boots. Though he didn’t seem overly friendly as he contemplated the council around him, there was nothing Mairea noticed that would make her agree with Ila.

“I don’t know, I don’t see it,” she told her friend.

“It’s not something I see, it’s something I sense.”

“Like an aura?” Mariea wondered.

“No, definitely not an aura. I don’t know, it’s hard to explain,” she muttered with a helpless shrug.

Brow furrowing, Mariea focused on what her aura could tell her about him. It was like a sixth sense, an understanding of the world around them on a different plane. Often, Mariea was so used to picking up on the smallest of things, she didn’t bother to contemplate it.

This time, she did notice something different about Mefune, something that if it weren’t for the fact that she was searching for it, she would have entirely overlooked. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, but it felt dangerous, as if she just subconsciously knew she needed to be cautious around him. Like Ila had said, it wasn’t like the feeling of an aura—it was clearly too subtle to be one. Even inactive, auras left a mark of power on a person who had one. Plus, Mariea guessed it was safe to assume he didn’t have an aura, since very few among the Brotherhood did; it was too dangerous, considering the weapons they carried could kill them if they interacted with their auras. So, what was it she and Ila had picked up on?

Without realizing it, as she had contemplated these things, her gaze had trailed back to him, and her aura appeared in the smallest amount around her hands, reacting to her emotions. As if he could sense her watching him, he turned to her, a hint of suspicion in his gaze. She blinked, caught off guard, and then quickly looked away.

“See what I mean?” Ila muttered, clearly reading her reaction and realizing she was thinking the same thing.

“Yeah,” Mariea muttered.

“Hey, we should start,” Gavin stated from her right, drawing the two women’s attention.

“Right,” Mariea muttered, trying to compose herself. She called the meeting together, forcing herself to ignore Mefune. As the meeting continued, she pushed it from her mind, focusing on the reports presented by her colleagues.

“These attacks are getting worse,” Jocelyn told them as it came to her. “We need to find a solution but I’m running out of ideas.”

Mariea sighed, disappointed to hear such news. Glancing to the two Brotherhood representatives, she asked, “Has anyone on your patrols encountered anything like what Jocelyn has described?”

“If your suspicions are accurate, and a new strain of Tarapor has developed that targets auras, I doubt we would see any cases of it. Considering ninety percent of the Brotherhood is auraless, these new Tarapor wouldn’t focus on us,” Mefune guessed.

“Besides, I do not appreciate the implication that we are not doing our job,” Samar inserted, sounding frustrated. Mefune glanced his way, one eyebrow raised slightly in surprise.

Mariea’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Nobody accused you, Samar.”

“No reason to be defensive if you haven’t done anything,” Ila stated coldly.

“Your accusations may not be vocalized while I am present, but I know you feel we are responsible. That was clear when you sent Gavin to chastise us.”

“Hey, I didn’t do any chastising,” Gavin said, his hands raised before him defensively. “You wouldn’t even speak to me! I had to get all my information from Altaira.”

“So you were investigating us, then?” Samar snapped, his gaze locking on to Gavin.

“You weren’t present at the meetings, so we figured the worst had happened. If you would attend regularly, we would have no reason to suspect you,” Ila retorted in response, defending Gavin. Samar returned his attention to Ila, obviously seeing her as the cause of his problems as the tension between the two quickly intensified.

Before an all-out argument could start between the two, Mefune laid a hand on Samar’s shoulder. “It’s not worth it,” he muttered.

Samar’s anger filled gaze snapped to Mefune, and the two seemed to have a silent debate for a brief moment. Then Samar let out a small huff, obviously annoyed Mefune had involved himself, but he gave in to his comrade. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms against his chest, his gaze shooting daggers at the blank wall behind Misha.

Mariea sighed, relieved. After a brief pause, she addressed the group. “Obviously nobody wants these deaths to continue and arguing about who is to blame isn’t going to fix it. We need a solution. Any ideas how we can address it, find out more information, and better protect the people while we work on it?”

The discussion began, but Samar and Ila were still tightly strung. Their comments were always backed by plenty of spite, and the weary Auraes around Mariea quickly became annoyed by them as well. Pinching the bridge of her nose and leaning against the table, Mariea tuned them out, her thoughts trailing elsewhere in search of solutions.

The dream of the woman started to play in her mind as if called up by some force that refused to let her push it aside. _She had wanted to help us,_ Mariea remembered, recalling the change from Sunday night. It had become consistent since. _Maybe this is what she wanted to help with?_ The more she thought about it, the more she warmed to the idea. It wasn’t like they had answers anywhere else, and she didn’t find it a coincidence this mysterious possible warning had cropped up almost simultaneously with the mysterious deaths.

_I have to go to New York,_ she decided. _If this is possibly an answer, I can’t ignore it_. As crazy as everyone would think she was for acting on the dream, she was quickly beginning to think itwas their only chance for answers.

“I think the answer to these attacks may lay elsewhere,” she interrupted. The conversation stuttered to a halt as the council turned to her. “As much as we would like to believe these attacks are Tarapor related, I wonder if there isn’t something else, something we previously haven’t dealt with, causing them.” She glanced to Samar. “And I trust your people are doing their job. There must be another explanation.”

“What did you have in mind?” Shawn asked.

“I…I received a message of sorts. It was incomplete and very vague, but it pointed me to a place I can look for more answers. It will take me off island. I’ll be gone for at least a week, but it very well could be much longer…I’m not sure. But I think this is what I need to do.”

“That may not be the wisest idea. It’s too dangerous beyond the island. We can’t do anything to allow those beyond our shores to see our auras, or it could lead them back to Raidenya, and start their witch hunt all over again,” Jocelyn warned.

To Mariea’s surprise, it was Bracken who spoke up in her defense. “Mariea actually mentioned this…warning of sorts to me a couple days ago, and we discussed the dangers at length. I originally agreed with you, Jocelyn, but…I think we need to act on this. We’re clearly not finding answers here.”

Mariea shot her husband a grateful smile, before turning back to Jocelyn. “Besides, I know the risks. I once lived in that world. I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t think it was what was best for everyone.”

“If this is really what you feel is best, then…we can’t stop you,” Jocelyn relented.

“I’m coming with you, though,” Bracken added, giving her a small smile.

Mariea returned it. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I can keep things in order while you’re gone,” Ila offered, her way of pledging her support.

“And I’ll get a substitute to cover your classes,” Shawn offered.

“Thank you,” Mariea told them both.

“You should bring a Medic with you as well, just in case,” Misha suggested. “Who knows what you’ll find once you’re out there?”

Mariea nodded in agreement. “Do you have anyone in mind?”

After considering it for a moment, Misha stated, “Mae Anderson. She just finished her training with a focus on emergency medical situations and could use some real experience. It would be good for her. Plus, she was actually born off island, and though she was young when she came here, she may still remember something of it, which could prove useful. She’s an incredibly talented Medic. I would trust her to handle anything.”

“If you could ask if she’d be willing to come along, I’d appreciate it,” Mariea requested. Misha nodded.

Glancing to Samar, Mariea said, “I know the Brotherhood has a way of handling our…lack of existence according to the rest of the world, when dealing with official documents and such. Think you could help supply the three of us with what we’ll need?”

Samar nodded. “It’ll take our records department at least a day to put it all together.”

“Good. Keep me posted,” she requested. She paused, considering her plan, and then nodded, satisfied she had addressed all the issues. Then she frowned slightly as something of a sadder note came to mind. Addressing Ila and Gavin, she requested, “See to it that the families of those that have died in these attacks are taken care of. It’s the least we can do since we failed to protect their loved ones.” Gavin and Ila nodded, sharing in her sudden solemnity.

“When will you leave?” Misha asked after a moment, breaking the brief mournful silence that had fallen over them.

“As soon as Samar has what I need, and Mae is ready to leave,” she stated, suddenly filled with a sense of urgency as she remembered how desperate the woman had sounded to share the information she had. “The sooner, the better.”


	6. Finding Allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mefune goes in search of allies.

** Chapter Six **

** Finding Allies **

_** Mefune ** _

After returning from his first meeting with the Aurae council in Verndale, Mefune found himself even more worried over Samar’s scheming. Since confronting Samar, he had spent a good amount of his time trying to convince the older man that he was on his side, but Samar refused to give any more details about his plan. Part of him had begun to wonder if his secrecy wasn’t caused by a lack of planning instead of a lack of trust—maybe there was nothing to share, and all of Samar’s ranting was empty air. Mefune had almost been ready to dismiss the issue, until they had gone to Verndale.

It was clear, within the first few minutes of the meeting , Samar did hate the Auraes enough to pull of something as ridiculous as the plans he had shared with Mefune. And after witnessing Ila’s extreme hatred towards the Brotherhood, he knew any chance of having the Auraes help resolve the issue without causing an all-out war was gone. Even if Mariea could have managed it, it was clear Ila wouldn’t be able to in her absence.

And Samar’s anger-filled rant on the walk back to headquarters made it clear he had every intention and possibly the means to go through with his schemes. That left Mefune with a quickly growing issue that seemed way bigger than one man could handle. He needed allies, ones who were willing to do more than Garrett was. But who could he trust with such an issue? Who could he turn to that Samar hadn’t already swayed to his side?

As he sat debating it at lunch one evening, he glanced over the crowd, considering what he knew about those around him. He had always been good at keeping tabs on the members he served around, knowing their strengths and weaknesses, but he knew little about them personally. It left him wishing he hadn’t insisted in keeping to himself so much.

Towards the back of the room, he noticed Altaira eating alone. He almost immediately passed over her, but then his gaze trailed back as he reconsidered what he knew about her. Altaira was fiercely loyal to the Brotherhood, and she had an Aurae brother. She had never done anything to show she harbored ill will towards the Auraes. She had even on occasion spoken in their favor when nobody else would. That lead Mefune to believe she was most likely no friend of Samar’s. On top of this, she had the skills and experience necessary to easily make it on the council and wouldn’t allow Samar to bully her into submission once she was there.

_She…could work_ , he mused, frowning slightly at this realization. Because, despite how good of a candidate she seemed to be up front, he couldn’t easily dismiss the tension between them. She hated him, that much was obvious. She was jealous of his success, as many others were, but for some reason, he had the feeling it was personal for her. Why, he could never guess. If they were to work together to defeat Samar’s plan, he was certain they would have to address the issue, and he couldn’t help but think it wouldn’t go over well.

_But what else am I going to do?_ He wondered for the umpteenth time. Altaira was at least trustworthy. Grumbling his frustration in a quiet, ineligible curse, he stood and approached her.

As he reached her table, he called her name. She glanced up, surprised, and then quickly looked back to her food, but he didn’t miss the scowl. “What?” she snapped.

Mefune sighed. This was going to be harder than he had thought. “I need your help with something,” he stated quickly. “But clearly you’re still angry over that duel.”

“I’m not angry,” she protested, to which he raised an eyebrow. She fell silent, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“This isn’t a small mater, and I don’t know who else to trust it with. I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t urgent. If you are willing to look past that duel, come find me, and we’ll talk.” He paused, wondering if he should add more to try and convince her, but as he met her gaze, it was clear she was hardly even listening. Shaking his head in frustration, he let out a small sigh and then turned and left. _I’m wasting my time,_ he thought.

* * *

_** Altaira ** _

After finishing her lunch, Altaira immediately sought out Daya, needing to rant about the strange occurrence she had just experienced. She still couldn’t comprehend why Mefune would approach her. And he had admitted he needed help with something. It wasn’t like he couldn’t work with others, but it was well known he liked to operate on his own. Why now, and why with her of all people, that had suddenly changed, she would never understand.

Finally, she located her friend working on repairing a jammed emergency exit on the slope of the underground fortress. Dressed in an old pair of overalls and with her short black hair pulled into a ponytail, she was covered in grease from the hinges and bolts but didn’t seem to care; Daya had always enjoyed working with her hands, and the dirtier, the happier she seemed to be.

As Altaira approached, she looked up from her work and then waved to her. Obviously noticing Altaira’s sour mood, she frowned slightly and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I was at the dining hall earlier, and Mefune asked me to help him with something.”

Daya raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “That’s different. What did he want help with?”

Altaira shrugged. “Didn’t say. Something about me being too angry.” She rolled her eyes with that, annoyed once again.

Daya scoffed. “Sounds like a very appealing proposal. Vague and unconvincing. Perfect,” she deadpanned as she shook her head and started tampering with the door again.

Altaira couldn’t help but smile, but that was all Daya was rewarded for her sarcasm. “He made it sound like it was important, though. And…he said he would tell me later if I asked about it,” she muttered.

“Hmm.” Daya eyed Altaira with a searching gaze, an idea forming, but she seemed reluctant to speak it.

“What?” Altaira pressed, too impatient to wait for her to make up her mind.

“Maybe you should ask him about it.”

“No,” Altaira immediately protested with a shake of her head, quickly declining the incredulous suggestion. There was no way she would willingly associate with him, much less work with him. _Whatever the problem is, he can take care of it himself,_ she stated firmly to herself.

Daya’s former amusement now completely gone, she insisted, “Altaira, can’t you see how good of an opportunity this is? He has power, the one thing we lack, and maybe in exchange for your help he’ll be willing to assist you as well. He’s way more influential than I will ever be; he’d be able to get things done I can’t.” When Altaira didn’t respond, she continued, “At least hear him out. He wouldn’t have come to you unless it was important.”

“Or he’s gloating,” Altaira argued, despite knowing Mefune had stated it was important.

Daya shook her head, obviously thinking Altaira was being ridiculous. “And we both know Mefune’s not that type of person,” she stated, eying Altaira pointedly. Sighing, she folded her arms, spreading the grease stains further. “Look, I have to be honest with you. As much as you think he’s standing in the way of your goal, he’s actually not; it’s your anger that’s in the way at this point. You have a chance. As difficult as it might be to admit that, you should take advantage of it.”

Altaira almost snapped something in return, but she couldn’t find the heart to do so. She had to admit, Daya had a point, and it pulled the force right out of her argument. With a defeated huff, she told her, “Fine, I’ll try talking to him.”

Daya brightened, obviously surprised Altaira had agreed. “Good! Let me know how it goes. And please resist the urge to knife him or something. It won’t go well.”

Altaira rolled her eyes at Daya’s teasing, but she couldn’t resist a smirk. “Fine, fine. I’ll tell you all about it, if I survive.”

After chatting with Daya for a little while longer, Altaira left her friend to her work and made her way back into the shelter of the Brotherhood headquarters. Once in the halls, she hovered for a second, trying to decide what to do next. Even though she had agreed to talk to Mefune, it didn’t make approaching him any easier.

For a few days, she hovered, trying to build up the courage to act but never finding the strength to do so. Finally, she decided if she didn’t just talk to him, the suspense would drive her insane, so she went looking.

She had a lot of ground to cover. Built deep into the towering cliffs that made up Raidenya’s southwest shore, the base was a sprawling maze of stone corridors, lit by sconces along the walls that had only been converted to electrical lighting in the past ten years or so. Bringing in modern conveniences hadn’t been easy, and since it wasn’t a priority to the Brotherhood, they had been slow to bother.

The hallways were often cold and sometimes crowded near the entrance, but the warmly lit dining hall on the lowest floor and several well-lit gathering rooms scattered throughout the rest of the base made it more inviting. There was a library with skylights adjacent to the council room on the top floor. The second and third floors, in between the dining hall and council chambers, were filled with housing. Accompanying the dining hall on the fourth floor were several large practice rooms, allowing the Brotherhood to keep their skills sharp even when the weather wasn’t practical. Below that were maintenance rooms and storage space.

Starting near the bottom, she wound her way up, checking public areas and scanning the passageways in search of him. Since the council wasn’t currently in session, she figured he was somewhere else in the base, or on patrol. _Knowing my luck, he probably is on patrol,_ she grumbled silently. _Now that I want to talk to him, he’s disappeared._

As she approached the Council room, she realized she was quickly running out of space to search. Her shoulders slumped slightly in defeat, but after a moment’s hesitation, she decided to check anyway. Entering the grand meeting hall, she passed by the long rows of seats.

Despite being the closest section of the base to the surface, the room was still built deep enough to be allowed high, vaulted ceilings. The skylights above allowed in shafts of afternoon light, giving the room a brightly light center but leaving much of the edges dark.At the far end of the room was the council seats, seven vaulted chairs in a row around a raised table. They gave the council the ability to look down upon the rest of the Brotherhood, like kings before their court.

To Altaira’s surprise, Mefune sat alone near the front of the room. He had claimed a spot in one of the last rows before the council seats, his gaze on the ground as his thoughts wandered.

Altaira paused when she saw him, apprehensive once again, but then gathered her courage and pushed forward. As she approached, Mefune’s gaze didn’t move from the spot on the floor, so she thought he hadn’t noticed her.

When he spoke, it nearly made her jump, but she managed to remain composed. “Did you decide you wanted to talk?” he asked simply.

She sighed. “Yes. I have to admit you sparked my curiosity…and you’re right, it’s time I put the duel behind me.” She almost couldn’t get herself to say it but knew she would never be able to move on if she didn’t admit it.

“I’m glad you finally realized that,” he commented as he straightened and looked up to her. “You’re too good to be consumed by anger.”

The combined compliment and admonition surprised Altaira, leaving her temporarily without words. “I guess so,” she finally managed, rubbing the back of her neck with a hand. Then she shook her head and asked, “So what did you want my help with, exactly?”

“If I tell you, you have to swear not to repeat this information to anyone.” His voice took on a dangerous edge, the implied warning clear to Altaira.

“Of course,” she readily agreed. There was something unnerving about his calculating gaze, and she already knew he could easily beat her in a fight. She didn’t want to find out what would happen if she angered him.

His gaze returned to the Council seats, darkening with an emotion Altaira couldn’t quite place. “I assume you had your goals for joining the Council, as did I,” he began. “But I’ve discovered my goals are irrelevant now. I’ve stumbled across something that could be fatal to the Brotherhood, and possibly the Auraes. I want to stop it but can’t do it alone. I was hoping we could put our differences aside and work together.”

“Why me?” she couldn’t help but wonder.

“You’re capable,” he said with a shrug, as if that explained everything. “There’s few people I would trust to handle such an issue.”

“Ah,” she muttered. She wanted to mention the obvious rift between them, the fighting they had endured, and how it would complicate things, but decided against it. All it would succeed in doing was remind her of her anger. So far, the conversation was going well enough, and she didn’t want to jeopardize its status now.

“Well, if it means protecting the Brotherhood, I’m in. What exactly is this threat?” she asked instead.

“The council.”

Altaira paused, surprised by this. “I’ve known for some time the council acts on its own agenda, regardless of how it affects the Brotherhood, but I have a hard time believing they would do anything to directly threaten it.”

Mefune sighed. “At one point, I believed this as well, but Samar sees a chance to grab power. He’s slowly convincing the council, and the general population as well, that the Auraes are abusing the Brotherhood. His support grows steadily, especially after the Auraes threatened us. He wants to reorganize our alliance somehow so he’s in charge.”

“How does he expected to do that?” Altaira asked as she slowly sank into a chair nearby.

“He plans to use the Tarapor to his advantage. He thinks if he releases some into the city, the Auraes will be desperate to stop them, so they’ll listen to his demands.”

Altaira’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Wouldn’t that just upset the Auraes?”

“I pointed that out as well, but he thinks if he releases enough, and makes it clear he did it on purpose to show the Auraes what would happen if we stopped doing our job, the threat of so many deaths would be enough to dissuade them from acting. I doubt that’s how it would go, but either way, I’m not willing to wait and find out. The amount of people that would die in the process are too many.”

Altaira stayed silent, staring at Mefune in amazement as she contemplated the deaths Samar’s plan would cause. It sent a shiver down her spine. _I can’t believe he’s willing to go that far. And all for what?_

As if thinking the same thing, Mefune fumed, “It’s disgusting. He’s willing to murder hundreds, just for a little power. Apparently having the entire Brotherhood under his control wasn’t enough.”

Altaira sighed. “People like him never stop,” she muttered, her thoughts on the things her family had suffered by the hands of men and women just like Samar. Forcing herself to focus on the here and now, she asked, “Why don’t we tell the Auraes about this? They have authority to remove members of the council, even arrest them, if necessary.”

“With tensions as they are, if we approached the Auraes and they confronted the council about it, Samar would just play the role of martyr. He’d have the full backing of the Brotherhood at that point. He’s not afraid to start a war over this, and with Ila left in charge in Mariea’s absence, the Auraes would be all too willing to answer. Besides, all the evidence I have of this scheme is what Samar’s told me. With nobody to back my claim, Samar could just say I lied and the Auraes wouldn’t know who to trust.”

“So…what do we do about it, then?” She doubted he had come to her without some sort of plan.

“I have an idea in the making,” he admitted, confirming her thoughts. “If we can break down his support, we could then move against him without risking an all-out war. But the council has more than enough influence on the general populous to keep them in line, so we’ll have to start with them. There’s plenty enough dirt on the individual members to challenge one at a time. This would expose the council’s corruption, swaying public opinion against it, while giving us an opportunity to place those actually loyal to the Brotherhood on the council. All we have to do is find the evidence we need.”

Altaira nodded slowly. “That’ll…take time.”

Mefune gave a short nod. “Time we may not have, which is why we need to work quickly. In the meantime, I’ve convinced Samar I’m loyal to him so I can learn as much information as I can about his plan. If I find a weakness, any way we can prevent him from acting, we’ll take it. But until then, undermining Samar’s support seems our only option to prevent an all-out war.”

Altaira sighed. “Alright. What do you need me to do to help?”

“Mainly two things. To be able to replace Samar’s allies on the council with people actually loyal to the Brotherhood, I need allies I can trust. I thought of you. Once we find something to challenge one of the members, if it proves substantial enough to have them removed, the seat will go to a vote, and you can challenge and easily win whoever is elected.”

Once again, Altaira couldn’t help but be amazed Mefune actually wanted her of all people to help him with such a delicate matter. She had resisted asking earlier, but after he had openly offered her a position of power, she found she had to ask. “How can you say that you trust me? We’ve been at each other since we both joined the Brotherhood.”

Mefune gave a small acknowledging nod, but stayed silent for a moment, clearly choosing his words carefully. “I never understood what caused that competition, to be honest. Maybe it’s just the way the Brotherhood is structured. But I never intended it to get as large as it has. I know you’re loyal to the Brotherhood. I’ve heard your opinion of the council.” He allowed a small smile. “You’ve never bothered to hide it. Because of this, I’m assuming your ambition for joining them has nothing to do with a loyalty to them. Plus, the fact that you have an Aurae brother leads me to believe you wouldn’t want to see a war between our people.”

She couldn’t help but be surprised by how well he had analyzed her. He wasn’t wrong, and even if he didn’t know all the details, it didn’t seem to matter. “So…you’re going to help me get a spot on the council, basically.” He nodded. She sat in stunned silence for a moment, realizing the irony of that fact; the man she had felt was standing in the way of her goal all this time was suddenly offering to hand her exactly what she wanted.

“I’m assuming you won’t protest this?” He guessed, looking a bit amused.

She couldn’t resist a small chuckle, hoping it didn’t sound too bitter. “No, of course not. I just can’t help but find it all ironic.” Then, after a pause, she asked, “Where will you find the evidence we need against Samar’s followers?”

“The council keeps meticulous records. I have access to those records now. I’m hoping they’ve gone unchallenged long enough that their guard is down, and I might be able to find something there,” he told her.

Altaira shook her head slightly. “You won’t find anything useful there,” she informed him reluctantly. When he raised an eyebrow in question, she added, “I had Daya search those records weeks ago. She found nothing incriminating.”

“Maybe she just didn’t know what to look for,” Mefune mused, but it sounded like a speculation made in an attempt to maintain some semblance of hope.

“We were looking for something specific.”

“And what was that?” Mefune wondered.

Altaira paused a moment, suddenly reluctant to share the story of her parents, but she realized there was a chance it could help them. “My…father was once part of the council. He was wrongly accused of something, and it led to his death. The council covered the whole mess up. I’ve been trying to find evidence of it, so I can charge the man who did it, but…all I have so far is my mother’s word.”

“Hmm…” Mefune muttered, resting his chin in his hand. “This is good though—you already have a lead. We might have to do some digging, but this is the perfect type of situation to challenge them over.” He glanced up to her. “As long as you don’t mind me making a big deal over this.”

She shrugged. “It was the whole reason why I was trying so hard to join the council.”

He seemed to contemplate this for a moment. “That…makes sense now. Well. Your father deserves justice. We’ll find what we need.”

Altaira blinked in surprise, amazed he so willingly agreed to help her. Feeling the slightest glimmer of hope she might actually be able to achieve her goals, Altaira found her excitement growing. “You’re willing to help me?” she wondered softly.

“Of course,” he confirmed easily.

“Well. I have to admit, this is not how I expected this conversation to go,” she mused.

He allowed a small smile. “Honestly, neither did I.”

“But I also have to say I’m glad I decided to talk to you,” she admitted.

He nodded. “Things are a lot easier with allies.” It sounded almost as if he was coming to this realization for the first time.

“Which was one thing I think we’ve both been lacking.” Then, remembering Mefune said there was two things he needed her help on, she asked, “What else do you need me to do?”

“To keep Samar from being suspicious, I may actually have to help him a bit. He’s asked me to help capture Tarapor—something I would rather not do on my own. Garrett reluctantly agreed to help me, but I have yet to get him to actually go. I’m thinking if you came as well, he might be more willing, considering the odds are more in our favor with the larger group,” he informed her.

Altaira nodded. “I can handle that. Though it may be interesting to find time around all the patrols we’re now assigned to.”

“I can schedule us time off. Samar won’t protest if he knows what it’s for,” Mefune stated.

Altaira nodded. “That’s convenient.”

Mefune allowed a small smile. “Hey, the position had to come with some perks, didn’t it?”

She gave an allowing nod, smiling slightly at the joke. Then she told him, “If you don’t mind, I’m going to include Daya in on all of this. She’s been doing what she could on her own to act against the council, but after Creta’s death, she…became reluctant to act alone.”

Mefune nodded slightly, something akin to regret crossing over his features. “That would make sense, considering Creta’s death wasn’t by natural causes. He was poisoned by Samar.”

Altaira let out a disbelieving sigh, shaking her head in disgust. “I was worried something had happened to him. Daya was suspicious. I was hoping she was wrong. Do you have any evidence?”

“Garrett’s word, but he refuses to do anything about it,” Mefune sighed.

“Coward,” Altaira grumbled.

Mefune let out an amused huff, clearly agreeing. “But, with what you’ve told me, we may not need him to act.”

“Hopefully,” Altaira agreed. She desperately wanted their plans to get somewhere.

“I’ll start searching. I have some ideas of areas I could look,” Mefune decided. “I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

Altaira nodded. “And let me know when we’re going to go Tarapor hunting.”

“Will do,” Mefune agreed. Then he smiled slightly. “This just might work out.” 


	7. New York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mariea begins searching for answers to her dreams in New York.

** Chapter Seven **

** New York **

_** Mariea ** _

Mariea stood just beyond the front entrance to the Dublin airport in Ireland, staring at the throngs of people, one hand gripping the strap of her backpack tightly. People hurried past them, talking in a hundred different languages and fussing with technology Mariea simply couldn’t grasp was possible. When she had last stepped beyond Raidenya, the world had been much slower. Staring at it all now, it was suddenly overwhelming.

Bracken stood at her side, wide-eyed as he studied the crowds. He had never left their island home, and after all they had experienced so far, it seemed the Dublin airport was the last straw. He looked even more overwhelmed than she felt.

Mae stood nearby, her green gaze attempting to take it all in as she ran a hand through her short, dark red hair. She was younger than Mariea would have thought when Misha suggested she come; barely nineteen, she was the youngest Medic to ever complete her training. It was impressive, Mariea had to admit, but part of her worried her inexperience would lead to trouble. Luckily, she seemed more excited than overwhelmed by their journey so far.

After a long boat ride from Raidenya to the nearest lightly populated area in Ireland and two train rides from there to Dublin, they found themselves at the airport, trying to figure out the next step on their trip to New York. The whole trip had been a series of Mariea stumbling around, semi knowing what to do, with the others following her like lost children. The confidence she had boasted before leaving Raidenya had left her soon after she had discovered just how much the world had changed in thirteen years.

“So,” Bracken stated lamely, as if to remind her they were waiting for her to tell them what to do next.

She bit her lip, staring up at the signs and watching the traffic, hoping to get a hint from their movements. Memories slowly came back to her from her last trip on a plane, and she started to piece together their next step. “We need to check in.” Locating the needed line, she approached the desk, but then hesitated, feeling as if she was forgetting something important.

“Something wrong?” Bracken asked as he came to stand next to her.

Suddenly it dawned on her. “We need IDs,” she informed them.

“Eyed ees?” Mae wondered, sounding confused.

Mariea laughed. “Identification cards. Like a driver’s license or something. It’s what all these people use to identify themselves, like we use our auras.”

“Where do we get these identification cards?” Bracken wondered.

“They should be in with the stuff the Brotherhood gave us,” Mariea replied, setting her suitcase down and pulling the strap of her backpack over her shoulder. She rummaged through its contents, and then produced a folder. From it, she pulled out three cards and passport books, and then passed them to her companions.

After briefly explaining what they should expect, Mariea turned back to the desk. The check in process went well enough, other than a slight hiccup with the fee forthe bags—she had no idea how Euros worked, and gave the woman the wrong amount at least twice before she decided to help her. 

Once all three were checked in and had their boarding passes, Mariea started towards their next obstacle—security. “The fun has just begun,” she grumbled to Bracken and Mae, before beginning to explain the ridiculously long demands security would require them to adhere to before they could pass through. Mae and Bracken looked shocked.

“Why so strict?” Bracken wondered.

Mariea shrugged. “They’re paranoid, I guess,” she muttered, though she knew there was more to it than that. She didn’t think a history lesson on how bad things had gone before the security was so strict would come as much of a comfort to the two, so she kept it to herself.

Joining the painfully slow line, Mariea began removing anything metal she had on her person, as did Mae and Bracken. Watching the metal detectors at the end of the line, she was surprised by how complicated they were compared to the ones she remembered from her childhood flights. As she continued towards them, the attendants began asking her about a myriad of items she could possibly have in her bag, half of which she didn’t even know what they were. _Eyepad? What could that possibly be, and why would it set off a metal detector?_ She wondered after one question.

Finally, she reached the metal detector, and passed through without incident. As she collected her things, she glanced over at Bracken as he passed through. She could see the monitor displaying the x-ray image and was surprised to see his aura seemed to surround him in the image on the device. _That’s interesting,_ she mused, taking note of it.

Bracken joined her, but he kept glancing over his shoulder warily. “I think something’s wrong with Mae’s ID,” he muttered in Shidokian.

Mariea frowned, glancing back. Mae stood at the desk, glancing nervously in their direction as she talked with a skeptical looking security guard. Mariea could just see over the woman’s shoulder, and it looked as though there was some sort of warning flashing on her computer screen. _Not good,_ Mariea thought. Behind Mae, she noticed more security guards approaching the front of the line.

Just then, she realized Bracken was moving back towards the line, thin wisps of his aura appearing around his hands. She gasped, realizing he was about to use magic in front of who knew how many people. She took a few steps forward, ready to stop him, but quickly realized there was nothing she could do without drawing unwanted attention.

The security guard at the desk blinked, and then handed Mae her ID back and waved her through. The other guards looked confused for a moment, as if they couldn’t decide why they were there, and then wandered off.

Mariea only realized she was holding her breath once Mae joined her and Bracken on the other side of the metal detector. “That was too close,” Mariea muttered as she glanced warily back at the guard.

“Tell me about it,” Mae muttered, trying to sound annoyed despite the tremor in her voice.

Once all their belongings were gathered, they hurried to their terminal, arriving just as the plane was boarding. Mariea finally allowed herself to relax as she settled into her seat, Bracken next to her, Mae across the aisle. As the plane climbed into the sky, Bracken’s gaze stayed glued to the shrinking ground outside, his eyes wide and a permanent grin plastered to his face. It seemed at least this part of their journey was enjoyable for him.

The plane settled at a higher altitude, and the stress of the past few hours finally hit Mariea, forcing out a weary sigh. Turning to Bracken, she told him, “That was dangerous, using a spell on the guards.” She almost forgot to not use English—it still wasn’t easy to rely on Shidokian, even after years of practice, and in moments of stress it became harder.

Bracken frowned slightly, his gaze still on the window. “I know. But I had to do something. Them investigating Mae for having a fake ID probably wouldn’t have helped us any. At least, I assume.” Finally, he turned to meet her gaze. “You may know more about this world, but you have to trust me to be able to handle myself here, or this isn’t going to go well.”

Mariea stared back for a moment, and then sighed, her gaze flicking downward. She had to admit, he was right about the investigation leading to more trouble. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

He smiled slightly and took her hand in his. “It’s okay. We’re all in this together. I know you’re stressed, and feel responsible for us all, especially Mae. But you don’t have to carry this burden alone. I’m here for you.”

She met his gaze again, returning the smile. “And for that, I’m grateful,” she admitted.

Several grueling hours later, the plane finally lowered itself to the ground. Mariea was jolted awake when the wheels hit the runway, and sat disoriented for a moment, before she remembered where she was. After stretching as best as she could in the cramped space, she glanced out the window as the plane taxied to the airport. The glowing New York skyline was visible in the distance. When she saw it, a wave of nostalgia washed over her, and she smiled slightly, allowing herself to enjoy the fact she was returning to her old home.

“Welcome to New York,” the attendant announced. “The current time is eleven PM.”

Slowly, the plane unloaded its passengers. After passing through the gate, the group gathered out of the way of traffic. “We need to get our bags,” Mariea told them. Glancing around, she located the sign pointing towards the baggage claim area and gestured her companions forward.

She found hers quickly and stepped back to wait for her companions to find theirs. That’s when she noticed two men dressed in official looking uniforms approaching the baggage claim area. They glanced over the passengers, eyeing them carefully, clearly searching for someone. She watched them for a moment, uneasiness settling in the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t sure what about the two made her nervous, but she had the feeling they needed to leave, and quickly.

“Hey, Mariea, Mae’s bag didn’t come through,” Bracken called, making Mariea jump slightly and turn back to the pair. She looked to the conveyer belt and noticed there were still plenty of suitcases.

“Give it a minute, it’ll come through,” Mariea muttered. Bracken let out a sigh as he turned back to the bags.

“Mariea Rolondo?” a voice stated behind Mariea.

She tensed, turning to find the two uniformed men standing behind her. “Yes?” she cautiously replied.

Instead of answering, one of the officers glanced to her companions and asked, “And are you Bracken Rolondo and Mae Anderson?” The two glanced to Mariea warily, and then nodded.

“I’m officer Jepson, and this is officer Alvarez,” the officer continued. “We’re from customs enforcement. We’ll need the three of you to come with us,” one of the men stated.

“Did we do something wrong?” Mariea asked impulsively, and then cringed inwardly, hoping such a question wouldn’t incriminate her.

“There was some suspicious activity involving your clearance through the Dublin airport. We are to detain you until our investigation is complete,” Officer Alvarez replied.

Impatiently, Officer Jepson added, “Come along, please.”

Mariea glanced warily to her two companions, knowing this was way beyond her ability to guide them safely through. Bracken shrugged wearily and started after the officers, so Mariea and Mae followed as well.

They were escorted to a security area in a secluded corner of the airport. There, they were placed in a small, bare room with three chairs and a table. On a smaller side table sat a half-empty coffee pot and a few granola bars.

“We’ll return once your belongings have been moved to a secure location for processing. Please wait here,” Officer Alvarez stated, and then he and his partner left the three alone.

Mariea sighed and plopped onto a chair. “Just to be safe, let’s use Shidokian. They could be watching us somehow,” she muttered. Mae paced on one side of the room, clearly too nervous to stay in one spot.

Bracken nodded as he leaned against the wall, his arms crossed against his chest. Following her advice, he asked her in Shidokian, “You think this is because of what happened at security?”

“I’m sure of it,” Mariea replied.

“I wonder what caused them to be suspicious,” Bracken muttered.

“Someone probably saw you using magic,” Mariea guessed as she rested her elbows on the table and rubbed a hand over tired eyes. She did her best not to sound accusing, but her old irritation about the whole fiasco had been brought up by their current situation.

“Maybe, but why would they believe anyone reporting magic? It’s just a fairytale to these people,” Bracken argued, clearing trying his best not to sound defensive.

“They might dismiss one or two reports, but there were dozens of people waiting behind Mae,” Mariea pointed out.

“Or maybe it had something to do with the computer he scanned my ID on,” Mae interjected, clearly trying to move the conversation forward before things got too heated. “It had a warning of some sort on it. That’s why he wouldn’t let me through. Something about it ‘not being in the system’.”

“If that was all, why are we here?” Bracken wondered, gesturing between himself and Mariea.

“Maybe because we’re traveling with her?” Mariea guessed.

They sat in silence for another long moment, before Bracken wondered, “So how do we get out of this one? I mean, we all know the ID was fake. We could probably break out of here somehow, but I doubt they’d just let us go, and we still have things to do here in the city, so we can’t just leave. But I’m sure if we cooperate, things won’t go well.”

“Wait, couldn’t you use some of the spells we use to hide Raidenya?” Mae asked, looking to Bracken. When he didn’t seem to follow, she added, “You know, the spells that made people forget my family when we came to the island. The ones the Brotherhood got from the spells masters. Didn’t you invent them?”

Bracken shook his head. “No, I had nothing to do with those spells. They’re old, and hard to use. I never learned them.” Mariea couldn’t help but be surprised by this. He glanced to her, seemed to notice her expression and gave a helpless shrug. “I never intended to leave the island so I never bothered to learn them. Besides, carrying around the items needed seems cumbersome.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Mariea muttered.

“Besides, my attempt at something similar is probably what landed us here, so more magic would probably not help.”

They fell silent for a moment more before Bracken asked, “How does the legal system here work anyway? Is there any way we could get some sort of…pardon?”

Mariea shook her head slightly. “I don’t know about that, but we might be able to prove our innocence, if I can contact the Brotherhood. I…think they have a base here in New York.” After a pause, she frowned slightly and added, “Though, I have no idea how to go about doing that in here.”

Just then, there was a knock on the door and the two officers entered. “Mariea, your ID actually checks out, though it is almost expired. Make sure to renew it before traveling again. You’re free to go.”

Mariea stared at him for a second before stuttering, “Oh—okay, but, um, what about these two?” She asked, glancing to her companions.

“They’re still under investigation, and will remain here until that is finished. If it turns out they’re innocent, we’ll allow them to contact you,” Officer Alvarez responded.

Mariea was about to protest, unsure of how she would find her companions again, but one look at Officer Jepson’s expression showed he would only find any further comments from her suspicious and unwelcome.

With a sigh, she asked, “Alright, where can I find my luggage?”

“Right this way, mam,” Officer Alvarez replied, gesturing to the door. Glancing one last time at Mae and Bracken, she reluctantly started after the officer.

He lead her to an office, where her luggage and backpack were waiting. After thanking him, she claimed her belongings and quickly headed out of the airport, feeling incredibly alone and very worried for Bracken and Mae.

Outside the airport, she found herself alone on the curb of a busy drop off area, with little idea of where to go next. She felt so disoriented over what had just happened, it took her a moment to remember what they had planned to do before they had been arrested. _I had hotel reservations,_ she thought, reaching into her backpack to find the papers.

The address wasn’t far from the airport. She just had to figure out how to get there. Glancing around, she noticed a sign for rental cars and started towards it. Luckily, it didn’t take long for her to rent a car.

By the time she made it to the hotel, it was close to midnight, and Mariea was exhausted. Jet lag was definitely kicking in. She glanced around the two bed hotel room, decided against dinner and a shower, and simply flopped down on one of the beds, kicking her shoes off as she did. Her brain was fried after spending all day trying to keep herself, Bracken, and Mae safe and where they needed to be. Despite her best efforts, they had still ran into trouble.

“I’ll contact the Brotherhood tomorrow morning, first thing. We’ll get out of this mess,” she muttered, needing to reassure herself before she could attempt to sleep. She changed in a half coherent state, and was asleep long before her head hit the pillow.

_Mariea found herself looking over New York, her eyes wide as she realized she was far in the air with no parachute, no way to catch herself. She stared at the gleaming city, breathing hard while trying to remain as still as possible, hoping whatever was keeping her suspended wouldn’t give out._

_Suddenly, she turned away from the city, the surrounding landscape spreading out before her. Beyond the busy streets of New York, the rest of the state wasn’t so crowded. Whole chunks of the state were open farmland with miles acres between houses. It all seemed to belong to a different day and age, which carried a certain charm._

_In the northwestern part of the state, her attention focused on a small farmhouse. It seemed very old, and though it was well maintained, it was showing its age; the paint was peeling, giving it a distinct blue and gray speckled pattern. There was a fence around the front yard that was missing a few boards in places, and the mailbox looked like it had fallen off its pole and been reattached several times. For some reason, the door was painted a bright red, and, of all the details on the house, it caught her eye the most. She lingered outside of it for a long while, and she took the time to study it in detail, soaking it in. She had the distinct feeling she would need to remember everything she could about it._

_Then, the house faded and she found herself standing on a pier. It was late now. Something important was happening, but she didn’t know what. She just knew she needed to find that dock._

* * *

When Mariea woke the next morning, she couldn’t figure why the room felt so quiet and empty, until she remembered Bracken wasn’t with her. She let out a shaky sigh as she sat up, feeling surprisingly alone. New York was a big place, and even though she had once lived in the city, that was a long time ago. She didn’t remember nearly as much as she had hoped. As she sat there contemplating it, she realized just how much she had been subconsciously relying on the fact that Bracken would be with her. She really wished he still was.

And she couldn’t imagine how he and Mae felt, being in custody in a strange land they knew very little about. With that, she pushed herself to her feet, determined to find a solution.

_Okay, so how to contact the Brotherhood,_ she mused. If she were trying to contact an Aurae, it would be a lot more simple—a messenger spell could easily be set to send to anyone with an aura. But, for communicating with the mostly auraless Brotherhood, things were a little more complicated. You couldn’t send a message to someone without an aura, because it wouldn’t know where to go.

Luckily, the Auraes had thought of a solution for this. At each base throughout the world, there was at least one person who, through the use of more spells, had essentially been given something of a magical caller ID, so the spell could find them. The only problem was, Mariea didn’t know who that person was for New York’s base, and without knowing their name, she couldn’t send the spell to them.

So, she thought of contacting the Brotherhood’s headquarters on Raidenya. Surely, they would know who she could reach out to in New York. Glancing at her watch, she realized it was nearly noon. _Well, I definitely don’t have to worry about waking them up too early,_ she mused as she brought her aura to light.

Before she could send her message, she paused as she realized she didn’t know who to contact there. It had been Cato—he had been one of the few members of the Brotherhood with a fully functional aura, so he had been an easy choice. But, now that he was dead, she didn’t know who had taken his place and hadn’t thought to ask before she left.

Letting out an annoyed huff, she realized this would require her to contact someone in Verndale in hopes they could find out who to contact in New York. _Okay, I suddenly understand why the Brotherhood hates that we don’t allow phones on the island,_ she grumbled as she began crafting her message.

As she considered Auraes who could help her, her first thought was Ila, but she almost immediately dismissed it. Ila hated the Brotherhood, that much was clear. She had spoken loudly against them during the Moscow incident. Misha and Jocelyn were probably busy trying to keep everyone alive and safe. Then Gavin came to mind. He did have a sister who was a member of the Brotherhood. Maybe he could get her to send a message to someone in New York, or an address to the base.

Bringing her aura to light, she crafted the message needed, and then sent it off. She knew the message would travel to Gavin quickly, and wouldn’t be visible until it reached him. Now, she just had to wait.

Heading downstairs, she found where the hotel offered breakfast, hoping there would still be something available. The hot food and most other offerings had been but away, but there were still granola bars. She sighed and grabbed a couple, deciding it would have to do. She glanced around the lobby, and found it to be surprisingly busy, so she headed back to her room. It would be best to not be in a public space when Gavin’s reply arrived.

As she munched on her tiny breakfast, she sat at the small writing desk in her room and wondered what to do next. Her mind strayed to the dream from the night before. It was incredibly odd, compared to her usual dreams, but she wondered if now that she was on the trail for answers, she would be guided to where she needed to go instead of be warned.

“So if that’s the case, I need to find that pier,” she muttered to herself. But other than going towards the ocean, she had no idea where to even begin looking. New York had a lot of areas that could include an old pier like the one she had seen in her dream. And, judging by the change of time periods, there was a good chance the pier had changed a lot since the dream.

“But I first saw the house in this time period,” she stated as she stood, pacing slightly. If she could find the house, she could follow the same path from her dream that had lead her from the house to the pier.

Just then, a deep burgundy ball of light appeared to her right, and she felt a wave of relief and anticipation as she realized Gavin had replied to her message. Reaching for the orb, she tapped the surface, and it expanded to reveal a written message:

_I didn’t get an answer from headquarters, and since you said it was urgent, I looked in the archives here at the capitol and found the address of the building. Unfortunately there was no record of who can receive messages there, but I did learn the leader of the base is named Cato. Ask for him, and he’ll know what to do. Oh, and Ila was asking if I’d heard from you. Should I tell her about what happened?_

Mariea read the note, quickly scribbled down the included address on a piece of paper, and then waved the message away as she debated how to answer his question. Eventually, she muttered the spell to create a reply, and simply added, _no, I’ll explain everything to her later._ _Thank you for your help._ She didn’t feel like dealing with Ila’s reaction at the moment.

After waiting a bit to make sure Gavin didn’t reply again, she headed downstairs with the address in hand. At the front desk, she found a free map of the city, and grabbed one, figuring she’d need it to find her way to the Brotherhood’s base.

Unfortunately, it took her a good while longer than she had expected to locate the base. She wasn’t good at reading maps, and the downtown area turned out to be way more confusing than she remembered. When she did finally locate the building, she quickly realized driving there was a bad idea. Finding parking was nearly impossible. What parking she did find was several blocks away, and she had to pay with what little US money she had left. She sighed as she left the car behind and started the walk back to the address.

Luckily, she managed to make it back without getting lost. Standing outside the building, she stared up at it, feeling a bit uncertain she was in the right place. The address was the one she had written on her piece of paper, but nothing about the building indicated she had come to the right place. The building looked just like the two next to it, if a bit shorter. She had passed beyond the huge skyscrapers New York was known for, but these buildings were still much taller than any on Raidenya. The sleek, glass surface seemed too modern and sophisticated, definitely not a place Mariea would associate with the Brotherhood.

However, as she glanced around the busy street, she realized she didn’t have a clue what she was supposed to do if this wasn’t it. It wasn’t like she could double check the address; Gavin’s message had dissipated. _What could it hurt if this is the wrong place? I’ll just ask for Cato, and if they don’t know who I’m looking for, I’ll figure something else out,_ she decided. With a sigh, she climbed the short steps to the door and stepped inside.

The lobby beyond did nothing to reassure her. It was nice, blending well with the rest of New York with its up-to-date styling. A long reception desk occupied one side of the room, with a sitting area opposite, including a small TV that played random shows quietly. There wasn’t much to indicate what the office was used for.

“Can I help you?” A voice stated to her left. Glancing at the desk, she noticed a woman there for the first time. She smiled at Mariea, but something in her gaze made Mariea feel she hadn’t expected to see her there and didn’t particularly like that she had appeared. It didn’t make her feel all that welcome.

Swallowing her growing nerves, Mariea managed a smile and stated, “Um, yes. I’m looking for Cato. I was told he worked here.”

The woman blinked in surprise. “And what is your name?”

“Mariea Rolondo.”

“Ah, headquarters told us you were going to be in the area in the next few days. We weren’t expecting a visit,” the woman told her. She relaxed, and her smile seemed more genuine.

Mariea’s shoulders slumped slightly when she realized the woman recognized her. “We ran into a little hiccup at the airport. I could really use some help, if someone’s free.”

“Of course, let me grab Cato. I’m sure he’d want to speak with you,” she replied with a nod as she stood. She gestured to the waiting area and then headed for a door next to the counter that was marked ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY.’ As she left, Mariea couldn’t help but note that was most likely the only time she had seen a member of the brotherhood in a pencil skirt and heels.

She waited for a few moments before the woman returned with a man in his thirties. He was dressed in what Mariea had come to recognize as the Brotherhood’s typical style—simple t-shirt, cargo pants, and sturdy boots, with at least one weapon present at his belt. He had short dirty blond hair and a kind face.

“Ah, Mariea, it’s nice to meet you,” he greeted as Mariea stood. “I’m Cato.”

“Cato, thank you for seeing me,” Mariea told him.

He smiled and nodded, and then gestured to the seats as he told her, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting visitors or I would have been better prepared. Charity tells me you’ve ran into some trouble since arriving?”

“Yes,” Mariea confirmed with a nod as she reclaimed her seat and he sat across from her. “Before leaving Raidenya, members from the base on Raidenya prepared the necessary travel documents for myself and my companions. Unfortunately, Bracken and Mae’s IDs caused problems.”

“Interesting,” Cato muttered, his brow furrowing in confusion. “It’s rare we have any issues with the IDs we use. What exactly happened?”

“Apparently some sort of alarm went off at the airport in Dublin, but we managed to get through security. Now, Mae and Bracken are being held at the airport by immigration.”

Cato frowned. “I hate it when ICE gets involved. I know they have an important job and all, but it’s so hard to get them to forget what happened.”

“Sorry,” Mariea muttered sheepishly.

“Oh, it’s not your fault. It’s ours for failing to properly prepare your IDs.” He turned to Charity, who hovered nearby. “Grab Mathew, have him look into this immediately. We need to act quickly before this causes a big problem.” Charity nodded and hurried off. Cato turned back to Mariea and told her, “We’ll figure this out, don’t worry.”

“Thank you,” Mareia breathed, relieved.

“You’re welcome. Like I said, I’m amazed this happened in the first place. Headquarters is meticulous about staying below the radar. If ICE starts looking into the agency that issued your IDs, we could have a problem on our hands. I’m glad you came here when you did,” Cato told her. He seemed to be thinking out loud more than anything, contemplating all the possible risks.

Mariea frowned slightly, remembering Jocelyn’s concern about exposing Raidenya. “This won’t compromise Raidenya’s safety, will it?”

“No, we won’t let it get to that point. That’s why we’ve spent so much time over the years working with the spells masters to make sure we have a magical solution to these problems. A few memory alteration spells and this’ll all go away.”

“That’s good.”

Cato nodded in agreement. “It’s just important we catch it before it gets out of hand. It can be a pain to track down everyone who needs a memory wipe. And, as computers get more sophisticated, making _them_ forget is proving to be the real challenge. Keeping track of Raidenya’s safety and keeping magic under the radar seems to be what most of the bases in the larger cites spend most of their time on.”

Charity returned, drawing Mariea and Cato’s attention again. “Mathew says the IDs were never properly activated, so the security systems at the airport wouldn’t be able to search for them. He activated them so if they’re scanned it’ll show up just fine.”

“Good. Now all we have to do is convince the officers that arrested them it was a glitch.” Cato turned to Mariea. “What time did your flight land?”

“It was late last night. I honestly don’t remember. Jet lag still has me confused,” Mareia responded.

Cato nodded. They’ve most likely moved them to the local police station then. We’ll head there and ask about it.

Mariea nodded and stood. “We can take my rental. I parked a few blocks away.”

“Works for me. Let me just grab a few things.” Cato hurried from the room, and returned a few minutes later dressed in a dark business suit. “So, I’m going to play the part of your lawyer, who you contacted over the issue. I was able to contact the agency who issued you the passports, and they reassured me they were legal documents, so I’m going to encourage them to try it again.”

Mariea nodded, hoping such a ruse would work. The walk to her car and followingdrive to the police station were uneventful. When they reached the station, Cato stated, “It’s probably best you wait here. They won’t discuss anything with me if you’re present since you’re not part of the alleged illegal boarder crossing.”

Mariea nearly protested, wanting to see Bracken desperately, but she understood Cato’s concerns. She nodded, so Cato hurried inside.

When Cato didn’t return quickly, she decided to take that as a good sign—he must have located Mae and Bracken. She spent her time flipping through stations on the radio, trying to get a feel for what was going on in the city around her. Being up to date on the local news might prove useful. But, she found the details of what she was listening to impossible to absorb, her attention glued to the station before her.

After a while of fidgeting and glancing at her watch, she climbed out of the car and began pacing, her ability to wait patiently quickly evaporating. A few hours had passed already. She couldn’t imagine what was taking so long. What would they be asking Cato that would require such a long wait? On Raidenya, if the Sentinels received evidence that someone had been wrongfully arrested, the response would have been immediate. _I guess that’s the benefit of a small, close-knit community,_ she mused. _These people probably have so many legal hoops they have to jump through just to keep the city running._

By eight-thirty, she was starving, exhausted, and nearly ready to storm in after Cato and break Bracken and Mae out herself. _Something must be wrong,_ she guessed, wondering if Cato wouldn’t be able to free them. If that happened, she figured Bracken and Mae would be deported, but if ICE looked into where to send them, they might find more holes in their records. The more she allowed herself to follow that train of thought, the more she wondered if she had in fact jeopardized Raidenya’s safety. She’d never forgive herself if she were the cause of exposing her home and possibly hurting the entire Aurae population.

When Cato finally did reemerge, she first thought he was alone, but then she noticed Bracken and Mae following, luggage in tow. Bracken smiled when he saw her and waved. She allowed them to reach the car, and then hurried to him and met him with a hug, letting out a relieved sigh.

“You have no idea how good it is to see you,” she muttered as he returned the hug.

“Same goes for you,” Bracken said with a small chuckle. “I did not want to spend another minute in that prison. They were asking all sorts of questions I had no idea how to answer and I’m sure I was digging my own grave.”

“Told you pretending we didn’t speak English would have been a good idea,” Mae grumbled as she began loading their luggage into the car.”

“Yes, but they already knew we could speak English by the time you suggested it. That would have looked even more suspicious,” Bracken pointed out. “Either way, though, I was sure they were going to lock us up for a painfully long time. I was seriously debating breaking us out, but I think Cato here wouldn’t have appreciated the mess that would cause him.”

Cato smiled slightly. “As it is, this is a bit of a mess, but much more manageable than it could be. So thank you, for waiting patiently. I’ll take things from here if you need to be on your way.”

“Won’t you need a ride back?” Mareia wondered.

Cato shook his head. “I can get around town fine. You seem to have a lot on your mind, and considering how rarely Auraes leave Raidenya, I’m assuming it’s pretty important. So I’ll clean up the residual mess here.”

“Thank you again, Cato,” Mariea told him.

“No problem. Oh, one more thing…” reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small notepad and pen, and wrote down a couple phone numbers. “Here’s my number and the main office’s number here in New York. You can also message me via magic any time. That way, if you run into trouble on your way home, you’ll know how to get in touch.”

Mariea smiled and nodded, mentally telling herself to make sure she stuck the numbers somewhere safe. She appreciated having a non-magical way to reach out to someone, just in case. With that, Cato started back towards the police station.

“Can we grab some food? Prison food is nasty,” Mae as she climbed into the car.

“I second that,” Bracken called as he and Mariea joined Mae.

Mariea smiled slightly. “I’m down—all I’ve eaten today were granola bars. First stop, food, then we can plan our next move. I’ve been busy while you guys have been in prison.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I think I know where we need to look next,” she replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay chapter 7!
> 
> I've never been to New York, and that reflects somewhat in these chapters. Hopefully I didn't do a too bad of job representing the Big Apple. There was a long, drawn out and surprisingly complicated process deciding where to have this chapter set, and as much as I wanted to avoid the cliche locations, New York was the only place that really made sense. I won't bore you with the details. Also, this chapter is a bit long, and I apologize for that as well.
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments!


	8. Searching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mefune searches for good information; Mariea searches for more clues

** Chapter Eight **

** Searching **

_** Mefune ** _

After talking to Altaira, Mefune went to work. Now that he had a plan, things seemed a lot less hopeless. He knew they were still up against impressive odds but having Altaira and Daya to help made things better.

He spent a few good hours comparing notes with Daya to learn all the places she had searched. It didn’t take long for them to mark off all the obvious locations, meaning he’d have to get a little more creative in his searching.

First, he stopped at the vaults. Daya had already searched them, but he wanted to double check for less than obvious hiding spots within the vault itself. He wouldn’t put it past the council to have an entire secret vault kept from even some of their own. The vault was located behind a sliding stone door at the back of the council room, locked behind a password only the council members knew.

After pressing in the correct pattern, he passed into the dimly lit room beyond and glanced over the many dusty shelves. Some of them were occupied by random relics, but most were filled with boxes and boxes of old meeting notes, member records, and other such documents. Since Daya had spent plenty of time searching through both the paperwork and the artifacts for anything obvious, he started to the back of the room and began looking for anything that might hint at a hidden compartment or door.

Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for him to cover the whole vault, and he found nothing of interest. The council was apparently more meticulous than he had expected in making sure any of their less than honest deeds were kept from the record books. Anything of worth was most likely kept in Samar’s office, or possibly elsewhere. If they couldn’t find anything at headquarters, they would have to think of another way to gather evidence against the council.

Briefly, he debated planting something or creating some sort of scenario to frame one of the members. It would be difficult to pull it off, and it wasn’t exactly the most honest solution, but in the end, it was for a good cause. What Samar was planning would be much worse. There were just so many loose ends, he found himself reluctant to go down that route. And, when talking to his new allies, they felt similarly.

So, he looked to the council offices next, specifically Samar’s. Finding a day where the council was absent when he could search their offices without being discovered took some time. He spent four days simply watching their habits, trying to map out a time where nobody else would be around.

Eventually, he settled on returning to the offices after dark. Well after midnight, he started from his apartment, moving carefully in the darkened hallways. In the living quarter hallways, only emergency lights along the base of the wall remained on overnight. Luckily, once he passed into the public areas, the halls were lit again and he found his way around a little easier. Still, he remained cautious. Often, a patrol would leave or return at odd hours of the night, but they rarely ventured to the end of the top floor where the council chamber and office space was.

When he reached the offices, he lingered in the hallway for a few moments, making sure they were in fact empty. When he was sure he was alone, he crossed the hallway to Samar’s office silently. The door was locked, though this wasn’t unexpected. Luckily, he knew how to pick a lock—a skill not many in the Brotherhood had but some chose to learn just in case it came in handy while hunting down Tarapor in populated areas. Pulling on a pair of gloves, he quickly got to work opening the door.

Once it was opened, he cracked it slightly and peered in, once again checking for vacancy, despite how it seemed redundant at this point. Closing the door behind him, he pulled a flashlight from his jacket pocket and glanced around.

The offices weren’t large, and Samar’s was no exception, though they were furnished better than other parts of the base. The stone walls were covered and painted, and there was actual flooring, and since it was so close to the surface, it was allowed a small window that looked out over the ocean. Samar’s desk sat in the center of the room. There was a single three-drawered filing cabinet, and a couple of extra chairs for guests.

First, he checked for any sort of surveillance, though he knew the Auraes would never allow such devices onto the island, and though Samar had an aura, it was too weak to manifest, much less use it for complicated security spells. When he was sure the office was clean, he turned his attention to finding the evidence he needed.

The filing cabinet was the obvious first choice, so he headed to it and carefully began thumbing through the files. Surprisingly, he found all but the top drawer empty, and nothing of interest was stored there. Glancing around, he wondered where else Samar might possibly stick items he didn’t want people to find.

Noticing the picture on the wall, he wondered if it could possibly cover a hidden safe of sorts. He lifted the picture away from the wall and glanced behind it, but found the surface smooth, so he replaced the pictured and straightened it. Turning back towards the door with a small frown, he debated where else to search. The whole escapade couldn’t have been for nothing.

That’s when he noticed the weird way the carpeting under Samar’s desk seemed uneven. Crouching, he pushed the chair out of the way and looked closer. Sure enough, there was a line, in the shape of a square, where it seemed the carpet was parted, almost as if it had been ripped and then patched.

Feeling around the edges, he noticed a small groove that his fingers fit in, and tried to lift it, but it didn’t give. After fiddling with it for a few seconds, he found it pushed in and then slid back, revealing a small alcove inside. He allowed a small smile, sure he’d find something useful there.

There wasn’t much present; a few maps, a lock box Mefune was careful not to disturb, and a small stack of files. Carefully, he started through them, deciding they would most likely contain anything of use.

As he started through the files, it quickly became evident Samar had been gathering incriminating information about many members of the Brotherhood, possibly for bribery or blackmail purposes. He spent a long time reading, long enough he grew nervous he’d run out of time. There were plenty of things in the files that were possibly useful, but it took a while to find something he felt would be enough to start an investigation, but also wouldn’t make the Auraes feel threatened. The last thing he wanted was to fuel Ila’s apparent hatred of the Brotherhood.

When he came across some journal pages, he almost passed over them, but a sticky note attached to the first page caught his eye. Listed on it were two names: Ezequiel Rydinski, who was a member of the Council, and Alec Conover. Conover was Altaira’s last name, and if he was remembering correctly, she had said her father’s name was Alec. The pages were kept in a sheet protector, along with a small cassette tape not much bigger than a coin. Knowing what he did about the situation of Alec’s death, he guessed there might just be something useful in the pages.

After only reading for a few moments, Mefune realized he wouldn’t find anything about Alec’s death—they were his journal pages. However, what he had recorded quickly caught Mefune’s attention. Apparently, Ezequiel had paid Alec to choose him as his successor, to save Alec from financial ruin. This meant Ezequiel’s election, and therefore his presence on the council, was entirely illegal.

This was exactly the dirt he was looking for, but journal pages were easy to fabricate. He would need pretty solid evidence to get Ezequiel removed. Then he glanced at the cassette tape, wondering what it could possibly be. Reading over the pages, he searched for anything about it.

Sure enough, towards the end, he found this line: _I don’t know if this will play out alright. That’s why I made the tape. It’s plenty enough evidence to take Ezequiel down. I’d most likely burn with him, but if I ever have to use it, I’m sure I’ll already by in a bad enough situation it won’t matter._

Mefune smiled slightly, realizing he had what he needed. He set the sheet with the journal pages and tape aside and gathered the rest of the files, making sure to carefully place them back in the corner where he had found them. After sliding the compartment door shut and replacing the chair, he slipped the sheet protector into the pocket of his jacket.

Leaving the office behind, he double checked the door locked again behind him, and then hurried back to his apartment. By the time he made it back, dawn was quickly approaching, and his lack of sleep was starting to catch up with him. Deciding he’d sleep for a few hours and then inform his allies of what he had found, he carefully placed the papers somewhere safe and allowed himself to rest.

When he awoke again, he found it was mid-afternoon. Despite how hungry he was, he quickly went in search of Altaira, Garret, and Daya. He found Garrett and Daya first, close to the entrance of the base. When Garrett found him, he smiled and said, “Hey Mefune, we missed you on the morning patrol.”

Mefune paused, and then his brow furrowed in confusion. “There was a patrol this morning?”

Daya nodded. “One of the extras, remember?” The whole council served on the same patrol, so their regular duties and meetings wouldn’t conflict with their patrol schedule.

Mefune shook his head as he put a hand to his forehead, grumbling his annoyance over forgetting under his breath. “I could have sworn that was tomorrow.”

“It’s alright. You weren’t the only one who forgot. Darius overslept and we left without him, and Desiree was almost late,” Daya told him with a shrug. “Samar planned it late last night, so it’s no surprise he didn’t get everyone to show up. I swear, he’s trying to work us to death.”

Relieved he wasn’t the only one who had forgotten about the patrol, Mefune nodded and told them, “Well, I’ve had a busy night. Let’s find Altaira and I’ll fill you in.”

Daya supplied, “She should be home right about now. She’ll be leaving for her patrol in a half an hour or so, so we better hurry if we want to catch her.”

She led them to Altaira’s apartment and knocked. Altaira answered the door quickly, glancing between the three in surprise. Before Mefune could say anything, Daya announced, “He found something.”

Their good mood was contagious, apparently, because Altaira quickly brightened. “Let’s talk inside,” she offered as she opened the door wider and gestured them inside.

The three followed, and they gathered in her small living room. “Okay, tell me everything,” she demanded, her gaze locked on Mefune.

He allowed a small, triumphant smile as he began to explain, “I found information that proves Ezequiel had a hand in what happened to your father.” He reached into the pocket of his jacket. Passing the sheet protector to her, he told her, “This is all the evidence we need to get Ezequiel removed from the council.”

Taking it, she pulled the pages out and began thumbing through them, her gaze passing over them quickly. “What are these?”

“Journal pages, from your father’s journal, actually.”

Altaira looked up to him, surprised. After taking a moment to process that fact, she glanced back down at them and continued to skim over the pages as she asked, “How do they help? For some reason I think it would be hard for him to write about his own death.”

Daya chuckled, and Mefune couldn’t resist a small smile at her sarcasm. “True, but they have…other evidence,” he told her. “Apparently, Ezequiel was elected as Alec’s successor not long before his death. It wasn’t what your father wanted, but he ended up in a tough situation. He was…almost financially destitute because of your mother’s health, and desperately in need of options. Ezequiel came from a rich family. He offered Alec an impressive sum of money if your father elected him as his successor.”

“Bribing your way onto the council is illegal,” Garrett interjected.

“Exactly,” Mefune agreed with a nod. “Alec accepted. These pages detail that transaction, and apparently the tape has more information. I’ll have to track down something that’ll play it, but the journal pages say Alec had basically planned to use the tape as insurance if things didn’t go his way. It’s enough information to start an investigation, which would force Samar to make Ezequiel resign.”

“But it doesn’t prove he or the rest of the council had anything to do with my father’s death,” Altaira muttered, looking a bit disappointed.

“No…but I’m hoping, while they investigate this, they’ll find out how Alec died and learn who killed him.”

“Either way, we need to act on this opportunity,” Garrett pressed. “This is exactly what we’re looking for.”

“If this is so important to you, why don’t you speak out about Creta’s death?” Daya challenged. “That would be an even better opportunity—we could go after Samar instead of beating around the bush.”

Garrett’s lips pressed into a thin line as he debated how to respond. “The only evidence I have of what happened is what I witnessed. It would be his word against mine. Then Samar would be angry at me and I would join Creta on his list of murders.”

Mefune was quickly growing frustrated with that argument. He had to pause a moment to squash his first response in order to keep his words somewhat civil. “We don’t need to push that issue if it isn’t going to get us anywhere. We’ll just act on what we’ve learned about Ezequiel for now.” Then he met Garrett’s gaze. “But don’t think I haven’t dismissed Creta’s death. If I find any more evidence towards it, I will pursue it, whether you like it or not.”

This seemed to upset Garrett a bit, but he didn’t argue, just simply nodded, his gaze glued to the coffee table before him. If Mefune wasn’t mistaken, he almost looked nervous. His gaze narrowed slightly. _There’s something he’s not telling us,_ he thought. _He’s way too desperate to keep that story quiet._ When he glanced Altaira’s way, it was clear she was thinking the same thing.

“Alright, so…what do we do now?” Daya asked, breaking the surprising level of tension in the room.

Mefune turned to her, pushing aside his frustration towards Garrett. He’d deal with that later. “The three of us won’t be able to bring the evidence forward, since we aren’t allowed to challenge other members of the council—apparently it’s so we can’t use false accusations to remove competition.”

“I could bring it up,” Altaira suggested.

Mefune shook his head slightly. “If we want you to replace Ezequiel, we can’t have you challenging his position. It would look like a power grab. I doubt Samar would willingly let you take his place. The Auraes are the only ones with the authority to challenge Ezequiel, so we’ll have to take it to them. That, though, you could do.”

Altaira nodded. “Think the Auraes will allow me to remain anonymous? If the council finds out it was me who gave them the information, they may still question my motives.”

Mefune considered it a moment. “Knowing Ila, she’ll probably just be grateful for a chance at the council. She hates Samar. Challenging him should be enough of an opportunity for her to agree to your wishes.”

Altaira nodded. “After that, how is the new council member elected?” Daya wondered.

“It goes to a vote amongst the Brotherhood Council,” Garrett supplied.

“Wait, it does?” Daya said, surprised. “I thought his replacement was chosen as usual.”

Mefune shook his head slightly. “The founders figured if a corrupt leader was allowed to be replaced like normal, there was a high chance his chosen successor would be just as bad, and if nobody could challenge him, the Brotherhood would be right in the same boat. So, they made it go to a vote in this situation.” Then he shrugged slightly. “Though, whoever is voted in can still be challenged, as usual, so if the vote doesn’t go in our favor, Altaira can just challenge whoever is chosen. She’ll win.”

Altaira nodded. The group fell silent. As if she had sensed the end of the conversation, Altaira stated, “I’ll head to Verndale tomorrow then.”

* * *

**_ Mariea _ **

Mariea woke early the next morning, her thoughts immediately turning to the house from her dream the night before. It was still dark when she woke, and Bracken and Mae were sound asleep. Mariea quietly went about preparing for the day, hoping they would wake up as she moved around, but she quickly realized that wasn’t going to happen. She stood in the darkness for a moment, sighing softly to herself as she debated what to do next.

_Well, I guess I could start looking for the house,_ she thought as she glanced at the map she had left on the desk the night before. Next to it was a pad of paper and a pen. Scribbling a note to let the other two know she’d be downstairs, she grabbed the map and slipped out of the room.

Downstairs, she headed for the lobby. She remembered seeing a public computer there when she had passed through earlier. Maybe, with some work, she could figure out how to search for the house.

Claiming the computer, she pressed the spacebar to wake the machine up. At first, everything on the screen was a bit unfamiliar to her—it had been a long time since she had used such a device—but she figured it out quickly enough.

She remembered what corner of the state the house was in, so she started by pulling up a map of New York. Zooming in on a mostly empty corner, she scrolled over areal views of the houses. _This is going to take forever,_ she thought, but with no idea how else to search for the house, she kept scrolling.

A couple hours past, and she had to stop to give her eyes a break. They stung, and she rubbed at them, amazed people spent so much time staring at screens. She was already developing a headache. And her search wasn’t over yet. She’d paused on several houses already, sure they were the one, but then as she’d zoomed in, they’d always looked different up close.

“There she is,” a voice called behind her, and she looked up to see Bracken and Mae approaching.

“Hey guys,” she greeted, feeling disappointed she hadn’t found the house yet. She had hoped, by the time they were up, she’d have an address and they’d be ready to head out.

“Any luck?” Mae asked.

Mariea shook her head. “I feel like I’m getting close, but no luck yet.”

“Well, let’s take a break. Have you eaten breakfast yet?” Bracken wondered.

Mariea frowned slightly. “I’m not hungry. I’ll eat before we leave. I don’t want to lose the computer,” she informed him.

Bracken shook his head slightly. “I’d say it’s not good to work yourself dry, but considering my track record, that would by highly hypocritical. I’ll save you something.”

Mariea chuckled and turned back to the computer as she told him, “Thanks.”

Breakfast came and went, as did lunch. Bracken and Mae returned to their hotel room. Mariea was quickly growing frustrated. She knew it was somewhere in the northwestern part of the state. She remembered a clump of trees off to the left before she’d seen the house up close. Where could it possibly be?

_Maybe it was just a dream,_ she thought, and then quickly pushed the thought away. There was something different about these dreams, and she couldn’t shake the feeling this house was important. She couldn’t let herself begin doubting now. That would mean she had dragged Bracken and Mae all the way there for no reason. She wasn’t ready to believe that was the case.

Finally, one caught her eye that looked vaguely familiar. Zooming in, she discovered she could see pictures of the house up close, and smiled when she recognized the little details from her dream—the paint color, red door and malbox were exactly as she remembered it. _Well, these dreams must be something, if I’m seeing real places,_ she decided, feeling vindicated. Jotting down the address, she jogged back up to the hotel room.

Bursting through the door, she held up the piece of paper in triumph and announced, “I’ve found it.”

“Finally,” Mae sighed, flopping back on her bed. “I can only watch documentaries about random animals for so long.”

“You want to go now?” Bracken asked.

“Let me mark it on the map. You’ll have to direct me there,” she told them, and then sat down at the desk to relocate the address and circle it.

“I’ll do my best,” Bracken agreed, reminding Mariea he had grown up on an island small enough maps weren’t entirely necessary.

“That’ll be good enough,” she decided.

Soon, they were back in the rental car and heading to their destination. To start their journey, they had to cross from Long Island to Manhatten, and then onto the mainland. That required a detour through downtown to reach the nearest bridge. They drove through the busy streets of New York as familiar and all new areas flashed past, making a bittersweet smile spread on Mariea’s face. Yesterday she had been too stressed to enjoy the city at all, but now, she felt more at home.

“Geez these buildings are huge!” Bracken muttered as they approached downtown.

Mariea’s smile turned into a smirk. “Yeah, makes Verndale look like a tiny village, doesn’t it?” she joked.

“I had no idea they even built buildings this big,” Mae muttered.

“I mean, I’d heard of them, even seen pictures, but it’s way better in person,” Bracken admitted. He was pressed up against the window with his head tilted back, clearly trying to see the tops of the buildings as they passed under them.

“See, the world beyond Raidenya isn’t all bad,” Mariea couldn’t resist saying.

“I don’t know, I’m not convinced; it includes crazy security guards and prisons with real bad food,” Mae grumbled, to which Mariea and Bracken chuckled.

After reaching the mainland, they started seeing signs for Newark, and Bracken directed Mariea in a northwestern direction. As the city fell away and the endless trees of New York surrounded the road, Mae and Bracken’s fascination faded and they turned to other means to entertain themselves as Mariea drove.

“So why do you think you saw this house in your dreams?” Mae asked after a while.

“To be honest, I don’t know. I’m hoping once I see it, I’ll be able to figure that out. There was also a pier, which I think is our end goal, but for some reason it didn’t give me much information about it. So, if we find the house, we might find that pier,” Mariea explained.

“Alright then,” Mae muttered. “Honestly, this is not what I imagined this trip looking like.”

“What did you imagine?” Mariea wondered.

Mae shrugged, and Mariea caught a glimpse of it in the rear view mirror. “I don’t know. Not house hunting, that’s for sure.”

Mariea let out a small sigh. “Yeah, I don’t know what I was expecting to find. I just hope something at this place leads us to understand what’s going on at home.”

“You and me both,” Bracken muttered.

They fell silent again as the day wore on. After roughly an hour and a half, Mariea pulled off onto a side road as they approached what looked like a long row of empty fields, a house perched in the middle. When the road met with the end of a short gravel driveway, she pulledover and glanced up at the house. Sure enough, it was the one from her dream.

“So, is this it?” Bracken wondered.

“Yup.”

“Now what?” Mae wondered, looking at the house skeptically.

“I…have no idea,” Mariea muttered. She glanced at her watch. It was nearing six, which meant it would be getting dark soon. She realized now they probably should have come up with some sort of gameplan before they drove all the way out there.

“Do you think talking to the owners would help?” Bracken wondered.

Mariea shrugged. “It might. But what do we tell them?”

“We’re doing some research?” Bracken suggested.

“About your family history or something,” Mae added. “A lot of families have ties to this area. If I’m remembering US history correctly.”

“That’s true,” Mariea agreed with a nod. “My family is from this area.” This made her consider for the first time the possibilities of her returning to her old home. Of all the places the dreams had lead her, why there?

“Okay, so we tell them we’re looking into your past, and you know this house is significant, but you don’t know why. Sounds…vague, but possibly believable,” Bracken mused as he considered it.

“I’ll tell them I found pictures of the home in an old photo album and I’m trying to figure out what connection it has to my family history,” Mariea decided. Then, she took a deep breath to steady herself. “Remember, no references to magic or anything like that, alright? I don’t want another airport fiasco.” Her companions nodded, so she climbed from the car and started down the driveway.

As they approached the house, Mariea rehearsed what she was going to say to this complete stranger, hoping they would be friendly. She could hear a dog barking, and couldn’t help but hope it was friendly. To either side of them, fields of tall grass spread out for as far as she could see. She wondered what they were used for.

As they passed through the gate, the screen door creaked open and an older woman poked her head out. “Can I help you?” She called.

“Hopefully,” Mariea called as she paused. 

Before she could explain, the woman asked, “You’re not selling something, are you?”

“No, mam. I just have a few questions about your house,” Mariea responded.

“It’s not for sell, if that’s what you’re wondering. Neither is the land.”

“No, nothing like that. It’s about the house’s history.”

“Hmm,” she muttered. Then she stepped from the door and waved them closer. “Well, come on up here then.”

Mariea approached, feeling a little more comfortable now that she knew who was behind the door. As she reached the stairs, she stated, “I’m Mariea, this is my husband Bracken, and our family friend, Mae.”

“I’m Iris. So you’re curious about this old place, are you?”

“Yes. I’ve been trying to fill in my family history a bit—you know, just want to figure out where we came from and all that.” Iris nodded, so Mariea hoped her story was somewhat believable. She continued. “I was looking for old family photos, and I came across one of this house. It took me a while to find where it was. There wasn’t any information about why the picture was there, but it seemed important. I was hoping you might know who originally built it, or…or if anything significant ever happened here.” She frowned slightly on the end, realizing she had no idea what to ask after.

“Well, you’re out of luck. I don’t know much about it. My husband bought the property a decade or two ago. He was determined to fix this old place up, but well.” She shrugged. “It hasn’t really happened. It’s a nice place though.” She seemed to get lost in memories for a moment, and then turned to her. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”

Mariea tried to hide her disappointment with a smile. “That’s alright. I’m sure we’ll find information elsewhere.”

The woman nodded, but she didn’t seem ready to dismiss them quite yet. “Though…I might know someone who would know. Hold on one second.” She disappeared back into the house for a moment.

“So what do we do now?” Mae wondered.

“Let’s see what she has for us,” Bracken decided.

“Is this going to become an endless journey of us chasing after vague references?” Mae wondered, sounding frustrated.

“I surely hope not. But let’s not give up hope yet,” she urged. If Mae remained pessimistic for the entire trip, she was sure she’d grow annoyed with the young medic.

The door squeaked open again, and the woman stepped out holding a piece of paper in her slightly shaky hands. “Here. This is the number of a man in town who’s a bit of a history addict. I’m sure if anyone knows, he’d know.”

Mariea accepted the paper, and read the name. “Alvin Willards…alright. You say he’s somewhere here in town?”

“Well, here in town as in the greater New York City area. Truth be told I don’t know where he lives. He came knocking on my door a few years back asking if he could photograph the house for his ‘archives’, whatever that’s supposed to mean.”

“Hmm. Well, we’ll give him a call, then. Thank you so much, Iris. This gives us a direction to head in,” Mariea told her with a pleasant smile.

Iris smiled. “Good luck, dear. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Mariea nodded, agreeing all too much with Iris. The three of them headed back to the car, the number in hand.

“So now what?” Mae asked as they neared the car.

“Well, we have no way of calling the man Iris mentioned,” Bracken pointed out.

Mariea considered it. “I guess we could ask Cato for help. He obviously has a phone, since he gave us his number.”

“Right,” Bracken said with a nod. “We should probably wait and ask him tomorrow, though, considering we still have to drive home, and it’ll probably be too late by the time we get back to call our newest contact.”

Mariea glanced at her watch. The whole visit had been less than an hour, so it didn’t seem that late to her. She was tempted to call Cato before they drove back, but decided against it. She didn’t want to drive through unfamiliar territory in the dark.

“Yeah, I guess we wait until tomorrow. Let’s head back,” Mariea decided as she climbed in the car. Her companions joined her, and they started the journey back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of digging into history. Family can be so messy. Any hunches as to where this mysterious ship is leading Mariea? Let me know in the comments! 
> 
> Also the end of this chapter recently underwent a rehaul, so I apologize for any typos or roughly edited lines. I wanted to give it a readover before posting it, but it's late. I might look over it in more detail tomorrow.


	9. The Archive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mariea visits her new contact in search of more information

** Chapter Nine **

** The Archive **

_** Mariea ** _

The next morning, the three gathered gathered around the small dining table in their hotel to eat their breakfast. Moments earlier, Mariea had sent a message to Cato, informing him of the situation and what they needed from him. Now, all they had to do was wait for him to answer.

Eventually, a small orange orb of light appeared next to Mariea. She set down her cereal bowl as she chewed the bite she had just took quickly, and then tapped the surface of the orb. It expanded slightly to reveal a written message: _Sure, I have a phone you could use. Stop by the base whenever, I’ll be around all day._

Mariea smiled slightly. “We’re really going to owe Cato by the end of this trip,” she mused.

Bracken let out a small, amused huff. “Yeah, I’d say so. I’m assuming you know how to get to the base here?” Mariea nodded. They finished their breakfast quickly and headed downtown.

Once there, they headed inside, and Charity smiled in greeting when she noticed them. “Hello again, Mariea. Cato let me know you’d be dropping by. Let me go grab him.”

Mariea nodded, and she, Mae, and Bracken claimed a seat in the lobby while Charity left to get Cato. Bracken glanced around as they waited, clearly just as curious about the setup as Mariea had been the first time she had visited.

“This is nice. I wonder what it poses as,” he mused after a bit.

“Private investigator business,” Cato supplied as he appeared behind them. “Which, we actually do have a small business on the side to bring in money and cover up our recruitment efforts, when we’re allowed to recruit. Though, we usually don’t have people here unless we invite them, just in case.”

“Which would explain why Charity looked so confused when I showed up unannounced the other day,” Mareia guessed as she stood.

“That would be why,” Cato confirmed. Then, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a simple flip phone. “Here, it’s all set up and ready to go. You can use it as long as you need to. When you’re finished with it, just bring it back here and we’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you. I owe you big time. This is twice now you’ve helped us out,” she told him with a smile.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. We heard things are getting a little rocky for you guys on Raidenya. We’re here to help,” Cato told her with a sympathetic smile.

“Well, thank you again. I’ll find a way to repay you somehow,” Mariea promised.

With that, Cato headed back to his work. Mariea returned to the couch and reached for the phone number Iris had given them. Instead, she found a pile of papers, and she pulled them out, feeling slightly surprised she had collected so many. It was quickly obvious all of them had addresses or phone numbers on them from their trip so far. _I need to find somewhere safer to keep these,_ she decided.

Dialing the number, she waited impatiently while the phone rang. Eventually, an older man answered the phone with a simple, “Willard Archives, this is Alvin speaking.”

“Alvin, hello. My name is Mariea. I was told you could help me learn more about an old house in the area.”

Immediately, the man brightened; she could hear it in his voice. “Yes, yes! That’s the point of the archives, of course. Come by the shop and I’ll tell you everything you could know about any old building.”

Mariea smiled, surprised by his enthusiasm. “Alright, we’ll do that, then. Could I get the address of you’re shop?”

“Sure, sure—wait, how do you know my name and number, but not my address?”

Mariea blinked, surprised by the sudden level of suspicion in his voice. “An…old contact of yours gave us the information. She said you could be helpful, but she didn’t remember where you lived.”

“Huh…” Alvin muttered, clearly considering it deeply. Then, he dismissed it as quickly as he had first considered it as he said, “Well, most people find me from my sign in the yard, so I assumed you’d be the same. Now worries then!” He quickly relayed the address, and Mariea scrambled to write it down, hoping she got everything correct. “I’ll be seeing you soon, I suspect,” he finished.

“Yes, soon,” Mariea agreed, but then she realized the line was dead. She pulled the phone away from her ear and glanced at it, surprised.

“Everything okay?” Bracken asked. He and Mae were staring at her expectantly, clearly worried as they read her reaction.

“Yes, I got the address. That conversation was just…bizarre. I think we’re in for an interesting experience.”

Mae shrugged. “Hey, considering this trip so far, it can’t get any worse. Still beats prison.”

“I’ll second that,” Bracken decided, and then he stood. “Let’s get going then. Do you know where the address is?”

“No, but I should be able to find it once we get back to the car,” Mariea decided as she stood as well and started for the door.

They walked back to the car, and Mariea immediately grabbed the map once they were all inside. It took her a minute, but she eventually located the address northeast of New York. “Guess we’re headed the other direction, this time.”

Bracken let out a sigh as he took the map and glanced over it. “This will be a lot harder to direct you to,” he muttered.

“Just do your best. It’s okay if we get lost. I’ll just pull over and we’ll figure things out. We’ve got the time,” Mariea reassured him, despite how she wanted desperately to get to Alvin’s and get answers quickly.

They started off, and Bracken did his best to keep them on track. They only had to turn around a couple of times, and they made it to Alvin’s place before noon, to Mariea’s great relief. The house itself was a small cottage-style two-story dwelling in an older neighborhood. The lawn and landscaping were meticulously cared for, and all the houses had a storybook feel that Mariea quite liked. At the edge of the lawn, there was a painfully large homemade sign announcing the dwelling as the location of ‘the greatest archive of historical knowledge.’

Bracken leaned around Mariea to read the sign. “Seems a bit bold of a claim, don’t you think?”

Mariea shrugged. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

They made their way to the door, and Mariea rang the doorbell. It took only a moment for Allen to answer. He grinned when they saw them, his bright white teeth and equally white smock of curls a sharp contrast against the dark shade of his skin. He wore a surprisingly ugly plaid vest over a crisp white button up shirt and slacks, and he actually wore a name tag near his collar that looked surprisingly official. It declared him the ‘headmaster of the Archive’, though Mariea had the feeling he was the only employee.

“Ah, come to peruse the knowledge these humble walls contain?” He stated as he straightened, clearly proud of his home.

“Um, yes,” Mariea replied.

“Very good! Come in, come in! Am I safe to assume you are the woman I spoke to a half hour or so ago on the phone? Morgan, was it?”

“It’s Mariea, but yes, that was me,” Mariea corrected.

“Very good! Right this way, and we shall discover the answers you seek!” He spun on his heel and strode down the hall at a surprisingly brisk pace. Mariea glanced at her companions. Bracken was clearly trying to suppress an amused smirk, and Mae had covered her mouth with a hand to douse the sounds of her quiet chuckling.

“Well. At least he’s enthusiastic,” Bracken whispered, earning a smile from Mariea as they started after Alvin.

Alvin lead them to a neat library lined with bookshelves. He claimed a seat at a large oak desk in the center of the room. “Please, do sit,” he urged, so Mariea and Bracken claimed the seats at the desk, and Mae hovered behind them. “Now,” he muttered as he pulled a pair of glasses from his pocket, which he perched on the edge of his nose. “I don’t actually need these. I just feel they make me fit the part better. Alright, what is it—oh, where are my manners? Please Morganna, introduce me to your companions.”

Mariea briefly debated correcting him on her name again, but decided against it. Turning to the two with her, she quickly introduced them both, sure Alvin would forget their names within moments.

“Very good! It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, all three of you. Now. Would you like any refreshments? I always offer my clients, though I can’t say I’m much of a cook myself, so it’s probably safest to say no.”

Mariea couldn’t resist a chuckle with this. “Alright then, I guess we’ll pass, thank you.”

“Very good! Clearly you’re all business. Let’s get to it, then. What is it you’re looking for?”

“I’m searching for information about a house I think might have ties to my family history. I was told by the house’s owner you might be able to help me track down information about it,” Mariea explained.

“That I can, my dear Molly! I know more about this here state than anyone else! May I ask what it is you would like to know in particular?” He asked.

“I found a picture of it in an old photo album. We were able to track down the house, so I have the address. I don’t know what connection it has to my family, but I want to learn as much as I can about the house. Hopefully it’ll have some clues.”

“Very good my dear. May I see the address?” Alvin asked. Mariea nodded and pulled the paper from her pocket. He read over it—clearly looking around the glasses so he could actually see—and then nodded. “Ah, a nice dwelling, to be sure. Blue paint, red door. Quiet neighborhood, though a bit too sparse for me. If I’m remembering correctly, it has quite the history.”

“You got all that, from reading the address?” Mae asked in amazement.

Alvin glanced up to her. “Why yes, Mariea. Every place has an interesting history, if you’re willing to do a little digging. Plus, I have a photographic memory for places I’ve visited. I never forget a house’s face, so to speak!” He chuckled at this own joke as he stoodand made his way to the nearest bookshelf. “Give me a moment to locate the correct binder.”

He began perusing, muttering random things under his breath as he did. That’s when Mariea realized none of the shelves contained books, just neatly labeled and stacked binders in multiple colors.

Eventually, he pulled out a large black binder and carried it back to the desk. “Though, it would seem saying this old thing has an interesting history was quite the understatement. This binder is all for just this address,” he stated as he set it down. “I thought it sounded familiar when I pulled it out.”

He flipped open the binder to reveal a neat, handwritten table of contents on thick, cream-colored cardstock paper. “My daughter keeps begging me to switch to typing, but then my skill for calligraphy would be waisted, now wouldn’t it?” He mused, with a small, modest smile. Then, he flipped the binder around and slid it towards the three across the desk. “Feel free to peruse at your own pace. If you have any questions, do ask.” He rested his hands on the desk and sat on the edge of his seat, clearly eager to answer any questions they might have.

Mariea pulled the binder closer, and Mae and Bracken leaned in to see as well. On the table of contents were a large list of dates and labels, each with a page number listed—some even included a paragraph number.

Bracken leaned forward, his brow furrowed slightly. “What’s this?” He asked, pointing to a line that read ‘ _Disappearance, 1785.’_

“Ah, that is a very interesting point in that house’s history indeed!” Alvin stated. Mariea began flipping to the page marked with the date, but it seemed she didn’t need to. Alvin was already relaying what had happened.

“It was the summer of 1785. The house was owned by a good man and his wife. They were elderly. With them also lived their adult son and his wife, and their young daughter. The house owner was a farmer, but the son, he was ambitious. Rupert Tamberlaine, that was his name, if I’m remembering correctly.” Mariea glanced down at the papers—it was actually Reuben, but she’d let it slide. He seemed to have a pretty good memory for the details, but not the names.

He continued, oblivious to his blunder. “Rupert left the family farm behind to start a well-off shipping company. He traveled to and from the motherland—England—dozens of times, and owned a nice fleet of ships by the time he was forty. And then, that summer of 1785, he, along with his wife and daughter, and about 200 other souls, disappeared.”

Mariea’s gaze snapped from the binder to Alvin. With one eyebrow raised, she questioned, “Disappeared? How?”

Alvin shrugged. “Nobody knows. You see, he ran into a bit of trouble—something about witchcraft. There wasn’t much about it that I could find, and trust me, I dug quite deep. They say he went crazy and sailed one of his passenger ships into a storm. The ship never returned, and was never seen again.”

“Interesting…” Mariea muttered, feeling like this was significant. Stories of Auraes fleeing for being accused of witchcraft riddled the peoples’ history. She wouldn’t be surprised if this Rupert—or Reuben, whichever name was correct—was an Aurae.

“Interesting indeed, my dear! Fascinating little story. After his son disappeared, the farmer—who’s name I forget—eventually moved away and the house passed hands for a while. Then, about 40 years later, a young man shows up in this very port, looking much like Rupert’s young daughter, Elinore. He carried the last name Remar, so nobody could prove the connection, and he denied it himself. But everyone still believed this boy was Rupert’s grandson. If their theories were correct, then it means Rupert and the ship did not perish.”

“Huh,” Mariea muttered. This intrigued her even more—her maiden name was Remar. Could it be this house ironically _actually_ had some connection to her family? She didn’t know much about her family history—her parents had died when she was young, before she hadgone to Raidenya, and they hadn’t been very open about their past. But that would have made her family Auraes. Why would Rupert’s grandson return to a world that was hostile to his kind? Had he lacked an aura himself, and the gene skipped a few generations until Mariea?

Shaking her head, she forced herself to focus. In her dream, she had also seen a pier, and now she was beginning to realize the possible connection. “Alvin, this has been very helpful. Do you happen to know the location of the pier that the missing ship left from?”

“I do, my dear, I do! Turn to page fifty-two in that binder, and you’ll find everything you need to know about the ship’s departure.” Mariea did as instructed, and scanned over the page. Pictures of a worn out dock and an address dominated most of the page, as well as several notes in the margins. “Here you are, a pen and paper.”

“Thank you,” Mariea muttered, grateful he had anticipated her need. She wrote down the address, and added to the growing collection in her jacket pocket.

Then she stared at the picture for a moment, trying to commit it to memory, before she closed the binder and placed it back on the desk. “Thank you again, Alvin. Your insight is priceless. I feel like I’m starting to get somewhere now in filling in the blanks of my family history.”

“Very good!” He stated with a grin. He stood, and offered a hand to her. “I am most grateful I could be of service to you!” Then, he opened a drawer in his desk and produced a small stack of business cards written in the same neat penmanship. “Here, please, take my number. If you ever have need of my services further, do call. I never charge. Knowledge is too priceless to put a tag on it! And give them to your friends and family. The more the merrier!”

She smiled. “I will remember that, thank you,” she stated as she accepted the business cards.

He showed them to the door, and they hurried to the car. As Mariea began driving away, Mae glanced back at the house and stated, “My goodness, if that guy gets any more eccentric—or happy—he’s going to become a cartoon character.”

Bracken laughed. “He’s definitely interesting.”

“I enjoyed his company,” Mariea decided.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I did too,” Bracken quickly corrected. “I was waiting to see just how many names he could come up for you. I just hope he kept his facts a little more in order.”

“It seemed accurate from what little I read in the binder,” Mariea stated.

“Yeah, but he made those. Who knows if those are accurate,” Mae pointed out.

“I’m inclined to trust him. But you have to wonder,” Bracken added when he noticed Mariea looked a little worried. “So I’m assuming you want to find this pier next?”

“Yes. It has to be where we’re supposed to go next,” Mariea decided.

“You think those people were Auraes?” Bracken wondered.

“I’m sure of it. Why else would 200 people disappear after one of them was accused of witchcraft? If they’re not dead, they were fleeing. And usually America was the place people went to to get _away_ from bad situations, not where they ran from. So I’m assuming whatever they were mixed up in was pretty bad.”

“Seems likely to me,” Bracken agreed. Then he glanced sideways at her. “Did you catch that the possible grandson had the same last name as your parents?”

“I did. I don’t think that’s just a coincidence.”

“I’d guess not,” Bracken agreed with a nod. “Our family history cover story may have ironically lead us to actually learn something about your family.”

Mariea shook her head in disbelief. “Yeah, it just might. Let’s just hope this pier gives us more answers.”

They drove for roughly an hour, until they found themselves standing on an abandoned pier, staring out at the ocean as it lapped lazily against the shore. Despite it being empty and long forgotten, Mariea could sense something else to her surroundings.

“Is…this where we’re supposed to be?” Mae asked doubtfully. It seemed there was absolutely nothing of use around, and Mariea couldn’t completely blame her for feeling unsure.

But Mariea was sure it was right. “Yes…I just…don’t know what we’re supposed to do now that we’re here,” she replied. Taking a step forward, she laid a hand on one of the old poles to steady herself as she looked out at bay.

Suddenly reality disappeared, and she found herself in eighteenth-century America, the busy dock around her bustling with people. It was late, too late to be starting a sea voyage, and yet several people clamored to get on the ship anchored at the end of the pier. Despite the amount of people, they were nearly silent, which amazed Mariea. She caught glimpses of their tired and scared faces as they passed under the light of a few candle lanterns. It took her only a moment to figure out what was happening; they were Auraes, she could sense it, and they were fleeing, driven from their homes by the witch-hunts of the past.

A man appeared next to Mariea and looked to her. “Elinore, come along,” he hissed, gesturing Mariea closer. Surprised, Mariea pointed at herself, wondering why he had called her Elinore. Suddenly the woman she had seen in her first dream materialized before her, moving to stand next to the man. She was younger now, about fifteen, and didn’t seem to carry the same weight she had when Mariea had first seen her. _So this must be Rupert and his daughter, Elinore,_ she guessed.

Following Elinore, the scene morphed, taking Mariea onto the ship. Then, time seemed to speed up, and days flashed by like a time-lapse video. Mariea watched their ship, like a little toy in a bathtub, bob its way across the ocean, to a small, unfamiliar and wild island.

Slowly a society was born from the rugged wilderness, and Elinore grew with it, maturing in beauty as well as Auric strength.

The vision ended as quickly as it had begun, snapping Mariea back to reality. “Mariea!” Mae yelled, placing a hand on her arm and shaking her slightly.

“What?” Mariea gasped as she raised a hand to her forehead in an attempt to steady herself. She felt incredibly disoriented, jumping from one reality to another so quickly.

Mae sighed in relief. “Man, you were gone. I feel like I’ve been yelling at you for a solid five minutes.”

“What happened?” Bracken asked. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I just…when I touched this pillar, I saw more of the message,” she informed them, gesturing to the wood in question.

Bracken brightened, looking slightly relieved. “So, we’re getting somewhere then.”

“It would seem so,” she confirmed. Staring out at the horizon, she suddenly knew the direction the ship had taken, and that she needed to follow it. “And I know where to go next. We’re going to need a boat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a fun chapter. Alvin is probably one of my favorite random background characters. 
> 
> This chapter is also the newest addition to the book, so it probably doesn't feel as polished as other chapters. I'll probably give it a more detailed read after I've left it alone for a little while.


	10. Intervention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ila visits the Brotherhood.

** Chapter Ten**

** Intervention **

_** Ila ** _

Ila sighed as she slumped into her office chair and scanned over the list of names Jocelyn had given her over a half hour ago. It was her third or fourth time through the names, and yet, she still found herself unable to process how long the list was. She had known there had been attacks, several resulting in deaths, but this? This was too many.

_Mariea needs to hurry_ , she thought for the upteenth time since her friend had left.

A knock came at her open door, and she sighed inwardly, wishing she had shut it. Now was really not the time for company. “Ila?” her visitor called. She finally looked up to them, discovering her attendant, Brandon. “There’s a member of the Brotherhood here, wishing to speak with you.”

Ila frowned, realizing this would do nothing for her mood but seeing no way to avoid it. “Send them in,” she wearily invited. She could only hope whatever it was would be worth her time.

Brandon returned a moment more with a woman Ila didn’t recognize, but seemed vaguely familiar, nonetheless. “This is Altaira,” he introduced.

“Altaira, nice to meet you,” Ila stated, extending a hand for her to shake as she managed a pleasant smile. Contemplating the name, she remembered why it was familiar—this was Gavin’s sister. Now, it was easy to see the resemblance in the two; though Gavin’s hair was darker, they had similar facial features and skin tone, and the same almost-violet blue eyes.

“Likewise,” Altaira returned with an equally civil smile.

Ila dismissed Brandon and closed her office door. Gesturing to the two seats before her desk, she invited, “Please, have a seat.”

Altaira nodded, sinking into one of them gracefully as Ila claimed her spot behind her desk. “So, tell me, what brings you to Verndale?”

“Before we begin, I would like to make it clear that I don’t want word of my involvement in this conversation to reach the Brotherhood Council,” she warned, her tone firm.

“As you wish,” Ila agreed with a nod. It seemed an odd request, but she had nothing against keeping secrets from the Brotherhood council. It seemed only fair, considering how many secrets they kept from her.

Altaira nodded, looking satisfied. “I came with information about illegal activity amongst the council,” she began. Ila nodded, unable to hide her surprise, but she made a good effort to hide her triumph. This was just the opportunity she had been looking for.

Unaware of Ila’s inner joy, Altaira continued. “Ezequiel, a member of the council, bribed his way on to the council, which is against our laws. But I do not have authority to challenge him, and I…have reasons to believe the council would not believe me if I brought it to them. I know you have certain jurisdiction over the operations of the Brotherhood, since we aren’t an entirely independent entity, so I figured you could help.” Her dark gaze watched Ila carefully as she explained, clearly gauging her reaction.

“Hmm,” Ila muttered, sitting back in her chair as she made a show of considering the ramifications of such news. In reality, she wanted to agree to arrest this Ezequiel right away, but she was learning the benefits of playing diplomacy. “This is a pretty high accusation, and the Auraes prefer to stay out of the Brotherhood’s affairs if we can. Do you have proof?”

Altaira nodded as she slipped a sheet protector onto Ila’s desk, several pages covered in scrawling handwriting and a small cassette tape tucked inside it. Ila pulled the slip to her and began examining the pages. “This depicts the transaction, from the journal of one of the men involved. The last page promises the tape has more details,” Altaira told her, before she began to explain in detail the account, pointing out the corresponding areas on the pages as she did.

As Altaira finished, Ila nodded. “This is definitely enough to open a case. I would like to hear the contents of this disk first, though,” she stated, studying it. She didn’t exactly have anything laying around that could play it. “Wait here,” she instructed Altaira, before she went searching.

After asking around and recruiting Brandon to search as well, Ila eventually tracked down a recorder that would play the tape back. After returning to her office, she and Altaira listened to the tape. To Ila’s immediate delight, she realized the tape was a recording of the very conversation where Alec and Ezequiel had made their deal.

“We need to act on this quickly,” she stated as the tape ended. “I hate to entangle myself in such an internal matter, but Alec and Ezequiel need to be dealt with.”

“Alec’s dead,” Altaira stated quickly. “This is just about Ezequiel.”

Ila nodded. “Just Ezequiel then. Either way, thank you for coming to me about it. I can’t stand for such corruption.”

Altaira nodded. “It was the right thing to do. The Brotherhood is full of good people. They don’t deserve to be led by cowards and thieves.” Her expression darkened slightly with this, and something about her tone suggested she meant her words more than she let on.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Ila stated as she stood, though she couldn’t care less what happened to the Brotherhood as a whole. “I can come with you to your headquarters today, if that would be convenient for you.”

Though she seemed a bit surprised, Altaira nodded. “That would be perfect.”

“Very well. I’ll bring a couple Sentinels, we’ll arrest Ezequiel, and he’ll stand trial for this. We should be able to handle this matter quickly and efficiently. Wait here, please.” Altaira nodded, so Ila stepped from her office again and went a few doors down, to where Jocelyn worked. Knocking on the head Sentinel’s door, she waited a moment.

“Ila, is there something I could do for you?” Jocelyn greeted.

“I need to borrow a couple Sentinels. There’s an arrest that needs to take place at the Brotherhood’s headquarters, and I would rather not deal with it myself. You know how they can be.”

Jocelyn nodded, her aura already appearing around her. She switched to Shidokian for a moment to send out the needed messages. “There will be two Sentinels here in a moment. Considering who is involved, would you like me to accompany you? Tension between the Brotherhood and Auraes are at an all-time high.”

Feeling a bit miffed Jocelyn was implying she couldn’t handle the situation, Ila had to bite her cheek to prevent her first reaction. Managing a strained smile, she told her, “I’ll handle the matter, thank you. Tell them to meet me at my office.”

Jocelyn nodded, her gaze flicking away, but not before Ila caught a glimpse of the doubt that passed over her expression. Ila didn’t bother to linger long enough to allow her to say anything else. She hurried to her car and grabbed the spare clothes she kept there, knowing the path to the Brotherhood headquarters wasn’t even paved. Making the trek in a business suit and heals wasn’t entirely practical.

After changing into the more suitable outfit, she rejoined the Sentinels and Altaira, and then the group headed for the forest. They drove as far as they could, but most of the journey would be on foot, once they passed beyond the city limits. As they started into the forest, Altaira took the lead. She followed a path Ila couldn’t see but she clearly knew well, moving almost silently, obviously comfortable with her surroundings.

Ila, on the other hand, had to resist jumping at any unfamiliar noise. The thick canopy of the trees around them made it darker than the bright city streets, and there was so much about the forest that unnerved her. She knew all too well there were monsters lurking in the shadow’s depths. The dried pine needles and leaves crunched underfoot despite how careful she was to be quiet, and compared to her companions, she felt like she was stomping and yelling in an attempt to attract as many Tarapor as possible.

The pair of Sentinels trailed behind the two women, almost as silent as Altaira. Ila was grateful for their presence, even if she knew Altaira was the only one of the four equipped to deal with Tarapor if they attacked. At least the Sentinels would be helpful once they reached the Brotherhood’s headquarters. Keeping her mind focused on her goal, Ila did her best to ignore her fear and pressed on.

They walked for a long time as the day wore on. Passing around the southern tip of a lake, they started upward as the forest floor climbed towards distant cliffs and the shoreline. Altaira glanced over her shoulder. “We’re close,” she informed Ila, who couldn’t help but be grateful. She was starting to tire.

After another half hour of mostly uphill climb, the forest fell away to give them a grand view of the ocean far below to their left. A final hill rose before them, which Altaira approached confidently. _We’re in the middle of nowhere,_ Ila protested silently. _Where is she taking me?_

As she stepped up behind Altaira, the surface of the hill seemed to flicker in and out of focus before a large stone door appeared in its side, wide enough for a few men to pass through together. Ila’s eyes widened in surprise despite herself. Clearly, powerful magic had hid the door from view, but she hadn’t even sensed it. It wasn’t an easy feat to hide magic, especially as it ventured into more powerful types, so clearly whoever had crafted the spells had been a talented Aurae.

Altaira stepped up to the door, and pressed in a few select pieces of the surface, as if putting in a code. The door sunk inward and then up with the sound of stone grinding against stone, allowing the group passage.

Stepping through the shadowed doorway, Ila had to pause a moment to allow her eyes to adjust to the dimmer light inside. Beyond the doorway was a long stone hallway lit by periodical sconces. Ila was actually surprised to find they were electrical lights—the Brotherhood seemed so old fashioned, she had expected fire. Altaira pressed into the crowds, who eyed the Auraes following her suspiciously. Ila met their gaze evenly, despite the twinge of nervousness their presence caused. The Brotherhood had always made her uneasy and she couldn’t push from her mind the fact that she was clearly stepping into their territory.

They wound through stone corridors for a good few minutes, traveling steadily downward. Ila quickly felt lost. _It’s much bigger than I thought,_ she mused. Eventually, Altaira stopped before a pair of large wooden doors, their grandeur surprising after the lower ceilings of the narrow passageways behind them.

Altaira paused. “I’m going to pretend you came on your own. Meet me at the front gate when you’re done, and I’ll get you back to Verndale,” she instructed.

“We can make it back on our own,” Ila stated.

Altaira raised one eyebrow and fixed her with a pointed look. “There are Tarapor out there, and by the time you start back, it’ll be dark. They corner you, you’ll be slaughtered,” she stated bluntly.

Ila sighed, annoyed that despite all the power her aura leant her, Altaira was right; she was helpless against the Tarapor. “I’ll meet you at the entrance, then.” She didn’t miss Altaira’s faint smirk as she nodded. Glancing at the two Sentinels, Ila added, “Wait here until I call you. No reason to upset the council immediately before I have a chance to explain.” The pair nodded.

Altaira pushed the doors open, allowing her and Ila in. The council was already gathered, clearly in the middle of a meeting, but their conversations silenced as they turned to Altaira.

“Altaira, I’m assuming you knew the council was in session,” Samar stated, his annoyance only barely contained.

“Yes, sorry. I found Ila by the front door. She said she needed to speak with you. It was urgent. I told her you may be busy, but she insisted.” She shrugged innocently, indicating the situation was out of her hands.

Samar’s gaze trailed from Altaira to Ila, and his expression darkened considerably. Ila had to resist the urge to smirk. “You’re dismissed, Altaira,” he stated, his tone much less civil now. She nodded and hurried off. “Ila, tell us why you have shown up unannounced.”

Clasping her hands behind her back as she met Samar’s gaze, Ila told him, “It has come to my attention that there is corruption amongst this council that must be dealt with.”

Murmurs of surprise passed through the council. “What do you mean?” One asked. She didn’t recognize him, but by the scowl on his face, it was clear he allied with Samar in his opinion of Ila.

She gave them a succinct description of the events Altaira had informed her of. As she finished, one man turned to Samar and stated, “She can’t prove it. I didn’t do any of what she just said.”

Realizing this must be Ezequiel, she studied him quietly. He had a bulkier, sturdy build, with curly golden hair and sharp facial features. Ila guessed he would have been quite attractive in his younger years. Under his stubborn anger, she noticed a hint of fear in his green eyes. _He’s guilty,_ she mused, allowing a small smirk.

“As a matter of fact, I can prove it,” she stated, and then pulled the journal papers from the inside pocket of her coat.

Samar gestured her forward, so she handed the papers over to him. He read them in silence for a long moment, his scowl deepening as he did. “Where did you get these?”

“An anonymous tip,” she said with a shrug.

“They’re just journal pages. This doesn’t prove anything,” Samar argued.

“But this might,” Ila stated, raising the tape. “It details the conversation had during the transaction. I’ll play it for you, if you wish,” she stated. “Or, will you hand Ezequiel over without making a scene about this? You know your laws. What he did was illegal. I have the right to prosecute him, and I intend to. I will not see corruption go unpunished.”

Samar’s jaw tightened as he stared at Ila, clear hatred written all over his expression. Eventually, he let out a heavy sigh and stated, “Fine, do what you will.”

“What?!” Ezequiel exclaimed, staring at Samar in disbelief as he gripped the desk before him.

Ignoring his protest, Ila turned and signaled for the Sentinels to enter. “Ezequiel, we must abide by the law,” Samar stated, sounding as if it pained him to say it. “You will receive a fair trial by the Sentinels, but this blemish requires you to resign from the Council.”

Ezequiel looked ready to kill Samar, or Ila, or maybe both, but he glanced at the Sentinels and all sense of resistance vanished from his expression. Stiffly, he stood, straightened his shirt, and stepped down from the council bar. One of the Sentinels approached and shackled his hands with a simple spell.

“Take him back to the city—I’ll meet you there soon,” Ila commanded. The pair nodded and lead Ezequiel away.

Once they were gone, Ila turned her gaze back to Samar. “I thank you for your cooperation,” she told him with a cold smile. “See to it his replacement is chosen legally this time.”

Samar gave a curt nod. “If there is nothing else, please be on your way so we can get back to our business,” he snapped.

“Of course,” Ila agreed. She claimed the journal pages again, and then turned on her heal and left the room.

It took her much longer than she would have preferred to find her way back to the entrance. Altaira was waiting as promised with the two Sentinels and Ezequiel. “Ready to head back to the city?” she asked.

“And back to civilization,” Ila griped, glancing warily over her shoulder.

Altaira rolled her eyes, but thankfully spared Ila any snarky remarks.They started out, leaving the Brotherhood behind, Ila feeling the oddest mix of relief and triumph.

* * *

_** Mefune ** _

Soon after Ila left, the council erupted with angered comments and questions, so much so it quickly became hard to keep track of everything going on around Mefune. It amazed him to see just how much of the council was angered by Ila’s actions. He had guessed Samar had a ton of support among the council, but this was even more than he had expected.

“Were those journal pages really enough to just let her take Ezequiel?” Darius asked Samar after a moment. Mefune barely heard his question over the others. Focusing on the two, he waited to hear Samar’s response, hoping to make sure there wasn’t any reason to suspect him for their appearance.

“Yes. They had clear evidence of what happened, and I’m sure the tape would have been even more incriminating,” Samar grumbled just loud enough for Darius to hear. He met the other man’s gaze. “Besides, they were from _Alec’s_ journal.”

Darius’ gaze widened slightly, clearly understanding the journal’s significance. “I thought you destroyed his things after he...died.”

“Apparently some evidence survived. I don’t want them looking further.” _So, apparently Samar and Darius are aware of the murder,_ Mefune mused, finding this little piece of information very useful.

“Wonder who brought them to Ila,” Darius muttered.

“That’s what I would like to know,” Samar grumbled with a slight sneer. “We must have a leak somewhere.”

Then he glanced around the room and shook his head. “As much as I hate to leave Ezequiel in the hands of the Auraes, there’s nothing we can do now,” Samar started, calling the attention of the room again. They quieted and turned to him reluctantly. “We’ll have to gather the entire council so they can vote to replace him. That’ll take some time. Until his position is filled, his assignments will fall to Mefune, since he holds Raidenya’s chair.”

Mefune nodded, as did the others. _Now we wait,_ he thought.

As the council dispersed, Samar approached Mefune. “Do you have a moment to talk?” he requested.

“Sure,” Mefune confirmed, figuring he wanted to discuss details of the adjusted assignments.Samar gestured for him to follow and headed for his office just down the hall. When the door closed, he asked, “Do you know anything about where these journal pages came from?”

“No more than you do,” Mefune replied, frowning slightly in confusion. “Why?”

“You seemed the only one that wasn’t upset over what happened,” Samar pointed out.

Mefune shrugged slightly. “Why waste my breath? If Ezequiel was stupid enough to get caught, he deserved what he got. We move on without him. Do you feel otherwise?”

“Just had to double check,” Samar stated lightly, as if his accusation seconds ago meant nothing.

Mefune raised an eyebrow. “You think I’m the ‘anonymous tip’?” he questioned.

Samar shook his head. “It was simply a question,” he corrected.

“Seemed oddly timed. Forgive me for finding it accusatory,” he stated, folding his arms against his chest.

“Everyone’s a suspect until we find out who gave the Aurae this information,” Samar said with a small shrug.

Mefune had to resist the urge to express his frustration over the irony of how Samar was handling the situation. It was as if he viewed whoever had helped Ila as the criminal in the situation, not Ezequiel. Instead, he stated, “I committed to help you, Samar. You shouldn’t take that commitment lightly. I don’t back out when I give my word.”

Samar nodded, looking thoughtful. “I’ll remember that.” Despite his pleasant tone, Mefune caught on to the implied warning easily. If he didn’t follow through, Samar wouldn’t be quick to forgive.

Mefune nodded and dismissed himself. His thoughts raced as he walked away, wondering what he had done to make Samar suspicious. _How could think I was involved? I was so careful not to leave a hint. What more could I have done?_

He trailed deeper into the base, wandering aimlessly as he replayed over the day when he had found the pages. No matter how many times he analyzed the situation, he couldn’t find anything that would have directly incriminated him. Sure, Samar would know someone had been snooping in his office simply because the pages turned up, but he wasn’t sure how he would have figured out Mefune was the one who had found them. And yet, he knew Samar wouldn’t have singled him out if he truly believed everyone was a suspect. Something had tipped him off. 

Deciding he needed to talk this over with someone, he paused in his wandering and started for the apartments on the second floor. He sought out Garrett first, but found he wasn’t around. That left Daya and Altaira that knew of the whole scheme, leaving him conflicted. He didn’t know Daya well, and though Altaira had agreed to put their little conflict behind them to help him, she still seemed to only barely stand his presence. But he had to speak to someone.

Settling on Altaira simply because it was a chance to show he trusted her, he started for her apartment. When he knocked, she seemed surprised to see him. “Have a minute to talk?” he asked.

She seemed at a loss for words for a moment, but then nodded. “Sure. Uh, come in,” she offered, sounding surprised. Mefune followed her inside, feeling slightly uncomfortable, but his mind was still playing over the issue with Samar, too occupied to entirely pay attention to the situation.

“Samar’s thinks I had something to do with the journal pages,” he stated after the door closed. He didn’t bother to sit down, instead choosing to hover near the entryway.

“That could be a problem. What tipped him off?” Altaira wondered. She busied herself with straightening things around the room, though a quick glance over everything told him there wasn’t much out of place.

“I’m not sure. But he asked to speak with me after the council meeting was over, and something about it seemed off,” Mefune started, before he quickly filled her in on the details of the conversation.

“Hmm. It does seem odd he singled you out.” She paused a moment. “But how would he know you had anything to do with the pages?”

“I found them in his office. He knows someone’s been snooping around, but I have no idea how he connected it back to me. The only person who knew I was looking there was…” his voice suddenly faded as he connected the dots. “Was Garrett.”

Altaira’s brow furrowed in confusion. “You don’t think he betrayed us, do you?”

“It would seem that way, but he’s literally the person who pointed me towards this whole scheme in the first place,” he stated with an exasperated wave of his hand. He shook his head in confusion. “It doesn’t make any sense for him to turn against us after leading us to the issue.”

They fell silent, caught on the contradictory for a moment. Altaira settled on the couch, and eventually Mefune moved to sit across from her in an armchair.

“I don’t know, there’s something off about Garrett,” Altaira stated with a light shrug. “He’s always been careful, but lately he’s seemed…paranoid. And he knows more about Creta’s death than he’s letting on.”

Mefune nodded. “I picked up on that too.” As he reflected on Garrett’s involvement from the beginning, his gaze narrowed slightly in suspicion. “At first, I believed him when he said he was worried about setting off Samar. The man’s clearly dangerous—but Garrett’s acting as if he’s already done something to anger him, and now he’s just waiting for Samar to punish him for it or something.” He paused a moment, thinking. “I wonder if he’s not trying to set us up to take the downfall for whatever he did.”

“Do you really think Garrett would do something like that?” Altaira wondered, sounding a bit surprised.

Mefune nodded slightly. “He’s usually a pretty decent person, but he’s incredibly selfish. His own safety and success outrank everything else. If he saw it the only way to save himself from Samar, I think he’d do it. Question is, what made Samar angry at him in the first place?”

“Maybe it’s about time we find out before it leads us to more trouble than we know how to handle,” Altaira mused. “That, and all he knows about Creta’s death.”

Mefune nodded in agreement. “Hopefully he’ll be willing to talk.”

“You think he’ll just lie to us?” Altaira wondered.

“Not if he seriously believes it’s in his best interest to tell us the truth.”

“How do we go about convincing him of that?” Altaira wondered. “Anything too forward and he might just run to Samar.”

With no definitive answer, Mefune stayed silent for a moment. Then an idea came to him. “We capture some Tarapor for Samar. Garrett agreed to go with us. We’d be away from base, meaning he’d have no allies, and the desperation just might be enough to squeeze the truth from him.”

Altaira nodded slowly, a small smile curving the corner of her lips. “And we could even bring back some Tarapor, which could help turn away Samar’s suspicion.”

Mefune nodded, realizing it wouldn’t hurt to do so. “It may seem like too obvious an attempt to smooth things over, but…considering how I responded to Samar’s challenge, it might be a good idea. When are you on patrol next?”

“I have the next few days off,” she replied.

“It’ll take us time to get to an area where there are enough Tarapor we’ll have a chance to catch one.”

“How much time?” she asked, sounding a bit wary.

“Two days, if I’m remembering right,” he mused, his gaze flicking away as he considered it. “The closest area is probably the western shore—unless we go to the northern half of the lake, but there’s a lot of Tarapor up there. We could get swarmed.”

“Let’s avoid that,” Altaira quickly agreed. “Two days it is then. So much for a few days off.”

He gave her a small, sympathetic smile. “Sorry.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “This is more important than catching up on my lack of sleep, anyway.”

He nodded. “Should we include Daya?”

Altaira shook her head. “She has patrol tomorrow—one of the random new ones Samar’s thrown in to satisfy the Auraes. I think it would look weird if she pulled from one of those to come with us. Plus, as far as Samar thinks, she’s not aware of his scheming and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Alright. I’ll tell Garrett. We should leave early tomorrow morning,” Mefune decided as he stood.

Altaira let out an apprehensive sigh. “This should be interesting.”


	11. Hunting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mefune, Altaira, and Garrett go hunting.

** Chapter Eleven **

** Hunting **

_** Altaira ** _

Early the next morning, Altaira dragged herself from bed and dressed quickly in a gray t-shirt, a pair of jeans, and sturdy boots. She braided her hair into its usual style, then pulled on a pair of fingerless gloves and a sturdy jacket. The night before, she had packed a bag with the supplies she would need for the three-day excursion to the western shore. Grabbing it, she swung it over her shoulder, and then added her sword around her waist and a pair of knives, just in case. Then she started out.

Garrett and Mefune were already waiting just outside the base entrance, talking quietly in the early morning light. Considering everything, it was surprising to her that Mefune could speak with Garrett so cordially. She worried she wouldn’t be able to meet his gaze without him picking up on her change of opinion towards him.

As she approached, the dew on the grass darkened Altaira’s boots, and she took a deep breath of the crisp morning air. At least it seemed it would be a nice day. Mefune glanced up and noticed her. “Ready?” He asked.

Altaira nodded.“Let’s get going. The sooner we’re back, the less of a chance we’ll have of someone noticing we’re gone.”

“I agree. Let’s try and make it to the cliffs along the shoreline tonight. That’ll give us a good staging point to search for Tarapor,” Mefune decided.

Garrett’s eyes widened a bit in surprise. “The cliffs are pretty far. I don’t know if we can make it in a day.”

Mefune smirked slightly. “Guess you’ll have to pick up the pace. I’ve made the whole trip in a day. I think we can make it to the cliffs in half the time.”

With that, he started into the forest. Garrett stared after him in amazement for a moment, and then shook his head before following. Altaira couldn’t prevent a little chuckle as she followed the two.

As they crossed under the trees, the limited lighting dimmed a bit. The morning was still chilly, the last of winter lingering before the sun rose, and Altaira found herself grateful for the warm jacket she had chosen to wear that day. As they passed into the thick of the trees, it took only a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dimly lit, green-tinted world of the forest floor. The familiar smell of pine and growth permeated the air, and silence surrounded them except for the occasional wildlife noise.

Altaira glanced to Mefune, wondering when he intended to speak to Garrett. They hadn’t discussed that little detail, and it left her a bit antsy without knowing when to expect it. She was reluctant to bring it up first, feeling it would be best coming from Mefune. But that left her with nothing to do but wait.

Her mind strayed to the second quarry of their little venture into the forest. She wasn’t looking forward to fighting the Tarapor. Despite spending almost every day of her life on patrols scouting for the beasts, it was rare they actually encountered them anymore. Five years ago, the Brotherhood had made a huge effort to drive the creatures away from civilization throughout the world, but especially on Raidenya, where their numbers had always been highest. Many had died in the process, and Altaira herself had spent plenty of time in the fights. They had come to call those couple of years the Purges.

During the purges, the Brotherhood had discovered some advantages. The Tarapor were naturally skittish, and they lacked the coordination to work together, meaning they could be overwhelmed with numbers and strategy even when they were in groups. And, with the Brotherhood’s specially crafted weapons, it was incredibly easy to kill them—only a small wound was required. The metal destroyed their aura, and without it, they quickly died.

Since then, things had become easier for the Brotherhood. The forest was safer, and a cure for the Tarapor disease had finally been developed. As long as they stayed away from the more infested areas, their job was relatively safe.

But now they were purposefully seeking the Tarapor out, and it seemed counterintuitive. To say the creatures were dangerous was an understatement. Nobody really understood the magic-turned-disease that sustained their enemies, but it was highly contagious. If one were to survive a Tarapor bite, the chances of joining their ranks were surprisingly high. And, in recent years, it had mutated to affect not just humans but animals as well. The creatures that remained after the disease had its way with them were more relatable to a walking corpse than anything living.

Despite their appearance, they were nearly impervious to any sort of attack, magic or otherwise—except for the rare, Aurae-made metal used to craft the weapons Altaira and the rest of the Brotherhood carried. They seemed to have limitless lifespans, able to survive in the harshest of climates, as long as they had one thing—access to blood. They hunted after it in a feral frenzy, the drive for it making them unaware of pain or fatigue. That was what allowed the magic to maintain itself—a protein found in blood, which the disease stole from its victim while they still lived. Once the victim died, the disease modified the new host to allow it to steal blood from others, which would sustain the disease, and the corpse, after death.

Memories of her last encounter with the beasts flittered through her mind, making her shudder. Glancing at her companions, she wondered if they felt the same. Garrett looked a bit nervous, but Mefune strode forward confidently, as if he belonged in the forest, unaware of the danger—or he was entirely aware of it, and perfectly fine with its presence. Altaira couldn’t help but admire that confidence, knowing full well when they did find the Tarapor, Mefune would give them a good challenge. That reassured her a bit.

Then she had to pause and contemplate the fact that he, of all people, was comforting her by being near. Shaking her head slightly at the odd change of events, she pressed on, determined to think of something else.

The day passed uneventfully. After they had traveled for a good few hours and the Brotherhood headquarters was well behind them, Mefune stated, “Garrett, before we reach the Tarapor, we need to talk.”

_Right,_ Altaira thought. She had nearly forgotten they intended to confront Garrett. The man in question paused, his nervousness increasing, making Altaira wonder if he hadn’t suspected something like this. “What about?” he wondered, his tone forcefully light.

“After Ila left, Samar confronted me about the journal pages showing up. Somehow, he knew to be suspicious of me, even though I was careful to make sure I left no evidence behind of ever being in his office. The only other person that knew I intended to look there was you.” Mefune’s words hung between them as he fell silent, his gaze glued to Garrett.

The other man shifted uncomfortably. “Samar noticed something was…off when he returned to his office after you had searched it. He started asking around. When he asked me,he was sure I had been snooping around. I had to give him something.”

“So you did tell him it was Mefune who took the pages?” Altaira asked, surprised he so willingly admitted it.

“Not directly,” he quickly corrected, looking to Mefune. “Just…hinted. I didn’t expect him to connect the dots. I’m sorry.”

Mefune sighed. “This…complicates things. If Samar doesn’t trust me, he’ll be paying attention. It’s going to be too easy to get caught.”

“I guess you’ll have to leave the snooping to the rest of us,” Altaira sighed.

“I…really don’t want to be involved. Not if I can help it,” Garrett added.

“Why is Samar so suspicious of you? What happened to cause that?” Mefune asked.

“I…” Garrett hesitated, looking conflicted. “Because…I’ve known about Samar’s plans for a long time now, and this isn’t the first time I’ve been dragged into an effort to stop him.”

Altaira’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“The…reason Creta died was because the two of us were trying to take down Samar.” He ran a weary hand through his hair. “Samar approached me when he first started actively recruiting and told me a bit about what was happening. I played it off as if I wasn’t interested in helping, but wouldn’t hurt him either. Then I told Creta, hoping someone with more authority would be able to handle it and I could back out, but he dragged me along. When things got bad—when Samar actively started working against Creta—I tried to pull out. Somehow, Samar found out I was involved, and…made me help him remove Creta. I thought he intended to just force him to resign. I didn’t think it would end up with him dead. I tried to warn Creta, but he wouldn’t listen.”

He glanced to Mefune. “The minute you got elected, I realized you would follow right in Creta’s footsteps, so I tried to warn you.” He shook his head, letting out a small, bitter huff. “Look where it got me. Right back to square one, watching someone run themselves into the ground again trying to fight against Samar.”

Mefune seemed to contemplate this information for a moment. “So you had a hand in Creta’s death,” he mused softly, his voice colder now as he studied Garrett. Altaira shifted slightly. The look in his eyes sent a shiver down Altaira’s spine, and she hadn’t missed how he had tensed slightly, his grip tightening on the sheathed sword he carried in one hand. Would Mefune kill Garrett if the fool admitted to helping Samar kill Creta? Watching him now, Altaira didn’t doubt he was capable of it.

“No! Not directly,” Garrett quickly corrected as he paled slightly, clearly not missing Mefune’s anger. “I just…mislead him, that’s all. But in the end, when I realized what Samar had planned for him, I tried to stop it, but I was too late. Creta knew he was dying, knew why, but neither of us could figure out the poison.” He shook his head again, looking frustrated, as if reflecting on the problem still upset him. He seemed to genuinely mean he hadn’t meant Creta any harm.

Mefune didn’t seem satisfied. “Who’s to say you won’t turn on us the minute this goes south, like you did with the journal pages?” he wondered softly.

“I won’t!” Garrett protested. “I already saw Samar kill one person. I’m not about to let him get away with it again.”

“If you know Samar needs to be stopped, then why won’t you help us?” Altaira interjected.

“Because Samar’s already suspicious of me. If I’m involved, I’m guaranteed to join Creta.”

“We’re careful,” Altaira countered, feeling slightly annoyed they were right back to square one with his same cowardly argument. “We know Samar’s a threat. We can handle him.”

“If Samar threatens any one of us, it won’t end well for him,” Mefune promised softly. He stared at the ground before him, his gaze slightly unfocused as if he was contemplating just how he wanted to make Samar pay.

Garrett sighed heavily. “I don’t doubt you—either of you. But you just don’t know what Samar’s willing to do to reach his goals.”

“I don’t think you realize what I’m willing to do to stop him,” Mefune countered, finally looking up to meet his gaze. “He killed Creta. If he wanted me to stay out of this, he shouldn’t have crossed that line.”

“Then I’ll wish you good luck, but I don’t want anything to do with it—anything that will make Samar believe I’m his enemy.”

“Seems to me the real reason you refuse to speak up about Creta’s murder is it would incriminate you as well,” Mefune stated, clearly daring Garrett to challenge him.

“No, that’s not it at all!” Garrett scrambled, but then his shoulders slumped slightlyand he said, “Okay, yes, that thought has crossed my mind. But I would speak up if I had any evidence that would hold up! I only know bits and pieces, nothing substantial. Samar’s a creative liar—he’d easily find ways to dismiss what I do have. I promise, Mefune, I would do anything to fix what happened to Creta. I regret every bit of it. That’s why I’m trying so hard to keep you out of this. I know Creta wouldn’t want you to die trying to fix this.”

Altaira shook her head, annoyed it seemed their best play against Samar was standing right in front of them, inaccessible behind Garrett’s cowardice. “Whatever, let’s just get this trip over with,” she sighed, looking to Mefune. “Maybe when he sees how successful we are, he’ll change his mind.”

“Maybe,” Mefune grumbled, but he didn’t sound the slightest bit convinced. With that, he started into the forest, setting a surprisingly brisk pace.

Garrett sighed again. “Why do I get the feeling I just made a big mistake?”

“It’s no surprise, considering how upset Mefune is now.”

Garrett glanced to her. “Yeah, and what I can’t figure out was if he was angry with me or Samar,” he stated, his worry written all over his face. “Samar’s bad enough. I don’t need Mefune as an enemy as well.”

Unsure of what to say to reassure him, she didn’t bother replying. Part of her couldn’t help but agree—she didn’t want to see what would happen if Mefune ever had a chance for revenge against Samar. She also wasn’t entirely convinced Garrett was safe from his anger either.

Shaking his head with his shoulder slumped in defeat, Garrett numbly started after Mefune. After a moment more, Altaira followed, wondering just how the rest of their trip would turn out.

* * *

_** Mefune ** _

Mefune pressed into the forest, caring little if Altaira and Garrett followed. He wanted nothing more than to be alone, because he wasn’t sure how much longer he could control his anger.

Part of him wondered why Garrett’s confession made him so upset. He had known for a while now that Creta had been murdered, and it hadn’t upset him this much before. Maybe it was because a part of him had always doubted Garrett’s claim. Creta had always been so smart. It seemed hard to believe he had been so fooled and had died because of it. Or maybe it was because part of him was still in denial the old Medic was actually dead. It was easy to pretend he had just wandered into the forest again, as he often did.

But something about Garrett’s confession, about realizing he could very well be meeting the gaze of Creta’s murderer, had set him over the edge. And honestly, he wasn’t entirely angry with Garrett. He was angry with Samar for manipulating him into helping him kill Creta. He wasn’t sure how true Garrett’s account was, but it sounded like, in the end, he had tried to make the right decision.

Unfortunately for Garrett, he had been present there in the forest, not Samar, so he bore the weight of Mefune’s anger. And he probably would never trust Garrett again.

It just made him nervous thinking of how angry the whole situation had made him. It had been a long time since he had felt that angry, and he knew all too well that anger only drove him to do things he would regret. Like killing Samar. The thought had crossed his mind—it would be justified, he told himself. Murder for murder. But he was trying to be the better man. He didn’t need Samar’s blood on his hands, and it would serve no real purpose other than to add another regret to a list he already wished was much shorter.

But there was more than one way to make a man suffer for his crimes. He would see Samar’s undoing, one way or another. That he was sure of.

The trio pressed on, Altaira and Garrett giving Mefune his space, which was probably for the best. By the time they reached their first stopping point—caves built into the cliffs above the sea—Mefune was feeling a bit more level-headed, but still way to restless to sleep, so he took first watch. They hastily built a fire near the cave entrance, and then Garrett and Altaira settled down to rest.

Mefune sat on the edge of the cliff, allowing one leg to dangle over the edge as he stared out over the sea. His sigh billowed before him in a cloud of white as the temperature dropped low enough to make it chilly, but he didn’t mind. The fire behind him warmed the cliff edge enough it wasn’t unbearably cold. It was too dark to make out much more than the white caps of the waves as they curled towards the cliffs far below, but he stared at the endless blackness of the ocean anyway, allowing the rhythmical pattern to calm him. Farther north, a waterfall poured over the edge of the cliffs, but its roar was only a gentle, distant hum from this distance. He could still make out the white foam rising from where the falls met the ocean far below.

Altaira appeared a few hours later, her arms hugging her chest in an attempt to preserve the warmth of the sleeping bag she had left behind. “You want to switch now?” she asked softly.

He shook his head slightly. “I’m fine for a few more hours.”

“Well, I can’t sleep either, so…mind if I join you?”

Deciding he wouldn’t mind the company, he nodded slightly. Altaira sunk to the ground near the fire, tucking her knees against her chest and resting her arms atop of them. “It’s a beautiful night,” she commented, her gaze on the stars above. “No moon though. The Tarapor are probably in a frenzy tonight.”

“Probably,” Mefune agreed, his gaze on the sky as well.

They fell silent for a long moment. “I…I’m sorry about Creta,” Altaira suddenly stated.

Mefune glanced at her. “It’s in the past. There’s no reason to dwell on it now,” he muttered, but he was surprised to hear his words shook slightly.

“Yeah, that’s what we tell ourselves, but it still hurts,” she stated, the bitterness weighing down her words. Clearly, she knew all too well what she was speaking of.

“Hmm.” He turned away, staring down at the ocean again, because he was worried dwelling on it would make him angry again.

“I remember when my mom told me about what happened to my dad,” Altaira stated softly. “Revenge was my only thought, for days. Nobody deserves to end their life the way he and Creta did.”

This brought Mefune’s gaze back to Altaira. The dim light offered little details of her expression, but he didn’t need to see it to know the look in her eyes. It was reflected in his own. She understood on a much deeper level than anyone else just how badly he needed to see Samar’s plans undone.

_Samar was a fool for making an enemy out of us,_ he thought. Glancing back up at the stars, he stated, “I guess Creta deserves to be avenged as much as your father does.”

“He does,” Altaira agreed easily.

“And I intend to,” Mefune added.

“I’ll help, wherever that takes you,” she readily agreed. Then she smirked slightly. “Now I wish we would have stopped fighting long ago. I think it’s going to be much more fun fighting together.”

He allowed a small smile. “I agree.”

* * *

_** Altaira ** _

The next morning, the trio climbed back up to the surface above the cliffs and started into the forest again. “It shouldn’t be much farther now,” Mefune informed Altaira and Garrett. “The last patrol covers up to the river just north of here, but they only pass through here once every two weeks. We’re likely to see Tarapor today.”

Altaira nodded. “How many are we going to take back?” she wondered.

“One or two?” Mefune guessed.

“That’s it?” Garrett stated, sounding surprised.

“Well, we have to drag them all the way back. Keeping them contained and us safe isn’t going to be easy. I don’t want to take too many at once,” Mefune replied.

“Maybe we should have gone to the lake. It would have been closer,” Altaira muttered.

“It’s too late for that now,” Garrett dismissed with a wave of his hand. “Let’s just get this over with.”

They fell silent as they traveled. Altaira scanned the forest for the Tarapor, wondering if they would bother being out in the day. They usually hunted at night, but sometimes their desperation would draw them out even during the day. If they were out, their numbers would be fewer. It would be much easier to catch them during the day, if they could manage it.

Eventually, they neared the river that fed into the waterfall they had seen the night before. Here, it moved at a lazy pace, not yet caught in the frenzy of the waterfall, so it would be easy to cross.

But before they had reached the banks, Mefune paused. “Did you see that?” he muttered, his gaze glued to a part of the forest to their right, his hand straying for his sword.

“Tarapor?” Garrett asked.

“I think so,” Mefune confirmed.

“How many?” Garrett wondered as he reached his sword.

Mefune shrugged slightly. “Couldn’t tell, but they rarely travel alone.”

As if his words had summoned them, Altaira noticed movement through the trees to her right. _Here we go,_ she thought, frowning slightly as she too reached for her sword. Just as her hand closed around the grip of her sword, she heard a screech behind her and whirled, raising the blade as she did. The Tarapor that had launched itself at her met with her blade, dying quickly. Garrett and Mefune drew their weapons as more Tarapor joined the fight. Luckily, it didn’t seem like a large group, but even one or two were deadly. No mistakes could be made.

Just as she finished one Tarapor and turned to search for more, a large Tarapor slammed into her from behind with impressive force. The impact sent her flying forward, her sword falling from her grasp as she fell in a heap. Her head smacked painfully into the ground, and for a brief second, she lost awareness of her surroundings.

Immediately, a Tarapor tried to take advantage of her fall by launching itself at her. Shebarely caught a glimpse of it as she rolled onto her side, and she only stopped it from burying its fangs into her neck by raising a forearm. Instantly, she realized that a was a mistake as it latched onto her wrist instead. Pain shot through her arm, but it was quickly replaced by a numbing sensation that spread through her body. The Tarapor’s poison leaked into her body from the bite, numbing her senses and dulling her reactions.

She knew she had precious little time before she would lose too much blood to recover, but thinking around the drug quickly proved difficult. She punched at the Tarapor weakly with her free arm, but the creature stayed firmly latched on. Realizing that was doing her no good, she kneed it hard in the side, but it simply shifted away.

Then she remembered the knives at her belt. Pulling one free, she lunged upwards with what little strength she had left and buried the blade in its neck. It died with a screech, finally freeing her.

She rolled to her knees, crouching as she watched the Tarapor, trying to shake herself free from the mind-numbing grip of the poison. Her heart raced too fast, her breath echoing in her ears, and her eyes wouldn’t quite focus. Swallowing hard, she pushed herself to her feet sluggishly.

Drawing her second knife, she held the two blades tightly, wishing her hands would steady. She wasn’t as proficient with the smaller weapons as she was her sword—and she definitely preferred keeping the Tarapor a sword’s length away—but she would survive with the knives. She shook her head slightly to try and dislodge the fog. It was fading, but not fast enough.

Just then, Mefune appeared at her side, glancing to her with a concerned gaze. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“Still breathing,” she managed, noticing how slurred the words sounded. He shifted to stand back to back with her, and some of her fear faded, reassured with him to cover her. But he couldn’t fight them all alone, so she forced herself to function, despite all she wanted to do was curl up and sleep.

She managed to raise her knives in time to kill the next Tarapor before it could get a grip on her. She dodged the next one, whirling to stab it in the back as it passed by. The more she fought, the better she felt as instinct kicked in to keep her moving.

As the fog slowly cleared, she became more aware of her surroundings, and began working in sync with Mefune. She was surprised by how easy it was; all those years she had spent becoming familiar with his fighting style to defeat him made it surprisingly easy for her to know just how he would act. They managed to push the Tarapor back enough Altaira no longer felt they were in danger of losing.

“Remember to keep some of them alive,” Garrett stated as he rejoined them.

“Right,” Altaira muttered. “How do we knock them out?”

“You hit them hard enough,” Mefune responded, smacking one on the head with the handle of his sword, as if to demonstrate.

The rest of the Tarapor began to scatter as they realized this wasn’t a fight they could win. As the last one disappeared into the trees, silence followed it, and Altaira stumbled to a halt, panting. She glanced to Mefune. Besides a shallow scrape on his cheek and a couple rips in his shirt from a Tarapor’s claws, she never would have guessed he had been in a fight. Glancing to Garrett, he seemed mostly in-tact as well. _We survived,_ she thought, feeling immensely relieved.

“Are any of them alive enough we can drag them back?” Garrett muttered between breaths. She noticed he didn’t sheath his sword, as if waiting for the creatures to attack again.

Mefune knelt at the side of one beast. “If they were dead, they would have decayed,” he stated. That was another weird fact about the Tarapor—once they died, the magic sustaining their bodies disappeared, and it immediately returned to whatever stage of decay it should have been in if it weren’t for the magic. The trio were surrounded by many skeletons, as if a battle had taken place there long ago, but amongst them were those still in-tact.

“Right,” Garrett muttered.

“Let’s take this one, and that one,” Mefune stated, gesturing to another near Altaira. She nodded, and then sheathed her knives. As she moved her wrist, she couldn’t help but let out a hiss, grimacing slightly as the wound pulsed with a fresh wave of pain.

“You’re injured,” Garrett stated.

“Yeah, but it’s nothing bad.”

“Did you get bit?” Mefune asked. Altaira nodded.

Garrett let out a quiet, fearful curse, surprising Altaira, until her poison-addled brain managed to remember why that was a problem. She let out a breathy, “Oh,” fear making her heart skip a beat.

Mefune stood. “I have an antidote. Garrett, finish tying this one up,” he stated, gesturing to the creature he had been fussing with. “Make sure it’s secure.”

He and Garrett swapped places as Mefune approached her, pulling his bag off his shoulder as he did. Gesturing to a nearby fallen tree, he told her to sit. She followed his instructions as she set her own bag down and pulled her jacket off, allowing easier access to the wound.

Working with the wound was surprisingly painful, causing her to grit her teeth as she pulled the fabric free and presented the two puncture holes to Mefune. The skin around the wounds was black, with thin white and red circles surrounding it, and the blood that still seeped from it was a good few shades too dark.

“That doesn’t look good,” she muttered.

“It’ll heal fine, as long as I get this applied quickly enough,” Mefune reassured her. He pulled a small dial with a silver liquid from his pack and then broke the seal with a knife. Taking her arm, he held it steady, and then warned her, “This is going to hurt.”

He poured the medicine into the two wounds, and it was like pouring fire into her veins. She resisted the urge to pull away from him but couldn’t prevent a gasp as she squeezed her eyes shut, her hands clenching into fists involuntarily. As the searing finally ebbed, she breathed in deeply. At least it had cleared the last of the fog from her mind.

“Man, that hurt worse than the original bite,” she complained.

Mefune allowed a small smile. “Hey, at least you know it worked. The burning sensation was it purifying your bloodstream. You should be fine.” He carefully wrapped bandages around the wound, his hands cool against her skin. “Keep it dry and clean, and make sure the bruising fades within a few days. If it doesn’t seem to improve, you should probably see a Medic.”

“Thanks. How did you get so good at this?”

Mefune’s smile turned to a smirk. “Before Creta was elected to the council, he had a habit of disappearing into the forest for weeks on end, and he always dragged me with him. Back then, the Tarapor swarmed the entire forest. I had to learn pretty quickly how to survive in those conditions.”

Altaira let out an amused huff. “Sounds exciting,” she joked.

“Very,” Garrett deadpanned from his spot next to the Tarapor, reminding Altaira he was present. “I think this thing is effectively tied up. We should go before the rest come back.”

“This should be interesting,” Mefune sighed as he hauled the Tarapor to its feet. Garrett and Altaira moved to help, and they started back into the trees the way they had come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed writing this chapter. Lots of interesting things happen. And we get a little more fast-paced scenes. Let me know what you thought!


	12. Leverage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Altaira receives a mysterious message.

** Chapter Twelve **

** Leverage **

_** Altaira ** _

Thankfully, they managed to make it back to base without incident. Garrett found Samar, and they handed the Tarapor over to him before heading their separate ways. Altaira made her way to her room, in desperate need of a shower and some painkillers. Her wrist ached, and she was exhausted.

As she finished up her shower and re-bandadged her wrist, she heard a knock at her door. Cracking the door open a bit, she realized it was Daya, and invited her in. “Where have you been the past few days?” her friend wondered as she started in. Then her gaze found Altaira’s bandaged wrist, and her eyes widening slightly. “What happened?”

“I’m fine, just a small scratch,” Altaira dismissed easily, deciding she didn’t need to let her know about how close she had come to becoming a Tarapor.

“What were you doing?”

Altaira filled her in on their little adventure, and all she and Mefune had learned about Garrett. “Wow,” Daya muttered as she finished. “I wouldn’t have guessed all that, about how Creta died. Or about Garrett.”

“I know. It’s pretty shocking,” Altaira agreed as she stood and made her way to the kitchen to grab a glass of milk and some pain pills. “Mefune was pretty upset, but I think he’s elected to let Garret slide. He’s even more determined to stop Samar now.”

“I don’t blame him. The sooner we’re rid of that worm the better,” Daya grumbled. Altaira couldn’t help but agree.

After a moment, Altaira asked, “Anything new happen while I was gone?”

“The last of the council arrived just a few hours ago. I was actually looking for Mefune; we’re ready to start the voting,” Daya informed her.

Altaira nodded. “Come find me when it’s finished, alright? I’m going to take a nap,” she decided as she wandered back towards her bedroom.

“Sleep well. I’ll be back in a few hours, I assume,” Daya told her as she headed out.

After sleeping for roughly an hour, Altaira woke and decided to get some lunch in the dining hall. She made her way down, and then claimed her food and a table, content to enjoy her meal alone.

Soon after, a large crowd began pouring in; she noticed it consisted of many of the Brotherhood Council. She spotted Daya, Mefune, and Garrett in the crowd, and waved them over. “How did it go?” she wondered.

Daya smirked as she set her plate down and dug into her dinner. “Believe it or not, the vote actually fell in your favor.”

Altaira simply stared at her friend for a solid moment, unsure she had heard her correctly. “Wait, they voted me in? Seriously?” she wondered once she found her voice.

Garrett chuckled. “Can’t say that I’m surprised. You are one of our best,” he pointed out, seeming amused by her surprise.

“Huh,” Altaira muttered. A spot on the council. It seemed too good to be true. She shook her head in disbelief. “Well. That’s a pleasant surprise.”

“The first one in weeks,” Daya agreed.

“They’ll make it official in the next couple of days, after Samar makes sure you want the position,” Mefune told her.

“Best part is, you’ll be reassigned to our patrol, so we’ll all get to work more closely together, and regular gatherings like these will seem less suspicious,” Daya added.

“That’ll be good…” Altaira managed, but she was still focused on the announcement. Then she chuckled slightly. “I guess I get to join in on the drama now.”

Mefune smirked slightly. “Welcome aboard,” he stated as he raised his glass in a toast.

Daya laughed and joined in, and Altaira did too, smirking as well. Garrett reluctantly joined, but she didn’t miss his small smile. Even he had to admit things were going a lot better than anyone had expected.

* * *

A couple days after Altaira’s election, she she sat in her new office, still trying to grow accustomed to the space. She and Daya had spent most of the days before cleaning out Ezequiel’s belongings. Now the space felt bare. She didn’t have much she needed it for, and since she was still getting up to speed on her duties, she didn’t spend much time there.

So it was a bit of a surprise Mefune managed to catch her there when he did. He knocked on the doorframe, and then when she glanced up, he walked to her desk and handed her a paper. “A message from Jocelyn, for you.”

“Interesting,” she muttered. Briefly, she wondered why Mefune had it, before she remembered he was now the official contact between Verndale and headquarters, as well as the other bases. She turned her attention to the note, which read: _Ezequiel has requested to speak with you. The case against him is moving forward well, so if you choose not to, it won’t impact anything. However, he’s claiming to have information about something that may be important to you and the Brotherhood council, but he won’t speak to anyone but you. Please come to my office in the capitol building if you choose to speak with him._

Altaira studied the note in surprise, amazed Ezequiel had reached out to her. _What if this has something to do with my father?_ She wondered. “Did you read what it said?” She asked.

He nodded. “I had to, to write it down.”

She nodded. “Think it’s worth looking into?”

“What do you think?”

“I would like to think he might know what happened to my dad. It’s just weird he’s reaching out now,” Altaira responded.

Mefune shrugged slightly. “I’d go. Jocelyn said it wouldn’t hurt anything if you talked to him, didn’t she?”

She nodded, agreeing. “I’ll go. Cover for me if the council asks where I’m at, alright?” He nodded, so she gathered her things and started out.

When she reached Verndale, she immediately headed to Jocelyn’s office. Luckily, the head Sentinel was there when Altaira arrived. She glanced up when Altaira neared and said, “Can I help you?”

Realizing Jocelyn must not recognize her, Altaira told her, “I’m Altaira Conover. I received your message about Ezequiel. I’ve decided to speak with him.”

Jocelyn’s confusion faded, replaced by recognition as she nodded. “Ah, right. Follow me, please.” She stepped from the office, gesturing for Altaira to follow.

The two made their way to the jail, which was only a few blocks away from the capitol building. There, Jocelyn lead her down a small side hallway away from the cell blocks and administration area. She paused and gestured to a locked door. “He’s in there.” Then she glanced at the sword at Altaira’s side. “But first, I’ll be needing that. I can’t allow weapons in the jail.”

Altaira resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she drew the sword and handed it to Jocelyn. The Sentinel took the weapon with a nod and said, “I’ll be close if you need anything.”

Altaira nodded, so Jocelyn unlocked the door and allowed her in. Inside, Ezequiel sat at a small table, his gaze locked to the wooden surface, his expression tense. “So, you said you had something to tell me?” Altaira stated.

Ezequiel’s gaze flicked up to her, and she was surprised by the amount of hatred she saw there. Then he glanced to Jocelyn over Altair’s shoulder. “Yeah, but she has to leave.”

Jocelyn looked to Altaira for confirmation, who nodded, so she left, shutting the door behind her. Turning back to Ezequiel, Altaira moved to sit across the table from him. Letting out a sigh, she folded her arms and settled in. She had the feeling she’d be there for a while.

“Well then, get on with it,” she urged.

“I think you and I both know it was you who brought those journal pages to Ila,” he started. He shifted slightly, clearly restless. She couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to the tension she saw in than just being anxious about the charges against him.

“What makes you think that?” She wondered, one eyebrow raised in surprise. She couldn’t help but be a bit worried he had guessed so easily.

As if sensing her worry, he shook his head slightly. “Don’t worry, the rest of the council doesn’t know, and they probably won’t figure it out.”

“Then how did you guess?” Altaira wondered.

Ezequiel shrugged slightly. “I know something they don’t. Alec was your father.”

“Ah,” Altaira muttered. She hadn’t realized it wasn’t common knowledge her parents had been members of the Brotherhood. It wasn’t like she had made any effort to keep it to herself, but she would have guessed at least somebody would have recognized her last name. It hadn’t been that long ago her father had died and her mother had left, and she was sure many of the older generations had served around them. But now that she knew the council wasn’t aware of her relation to Alec, she found herself grateful.

“And I know why you brought the pages forward,” Ezequiel continued. “You think I had something to do with your father’s murder.”

“Did you?” Altaira asked. It was the first time someone on the council had confirmed her father hadn’t died of natural causes. It was a bit of a relief to know she wasn’t fighting for no reason.

“No. But I know who killed him, and why.”

Altaira sat up straighter. This was something she desperately wanted to know, but she did her best not to allow Ezequiel to realize this. She didn’t know what he wanted yet, and she didn’t want to back herself into a corner.

“So tell me who did it,” she pressed, trying her best to keep her voice neutral.

Ezequiel shook his head. “Not yet. First you have to swear to help me.”

Altaira only barely prevented the snort of contempt. “Why in the world would I help you?”

This clearly didn’t sit well with him, but he contained his annoyance and in a somewhat civil tone, he told her, “Because  I’m the only one who can stop Samar from murdering everyone .”

This time, she couldn’t prevent  a small chuckle . “ Even if Samar could _somehow_ murder everyone, what are you going to do to stop it? Stop trying so hard to sell yourself for better than what you are. You’re no hero, you’re just a crooked guy who wants to get out of jail free. ”

“Listen to me!” Ezequiel snapped, slapping his hand on the table. Altaira startled slightly, sobering at the intensity of his stare and sudden change in demeanor. “I know it sounds ridiculous but Samar is—“ he suddenly stopped, as if he realized he was starting to explain before he had what he wanted in exchange.

He contained his frustration with concerted effort as he settled back into his chair, his hands pressed against the table before him. “Look, just promise you’ll get me pardoned and I’ll tell you everything.”

Altaira’s gaze narrowed slightly as she processed all this. A pardon was a lot to ask for, and something only Mariea would be able to hand down, but it seemed Ezequiel didn’t know that or didn’t care. Altaira would prefer he rotted in a cell for the rest of his life for his part in her father’s murder, but she doubted that would happen even if the case against him went well; he hadn’t committed a serious enough crime for a long sentence. And she had to admit, she  needed the information he had . It could very well lead to a solution for Samar’s schemes _and_ avenge her father.

“Fine, I’ll talk to Jocelyn after we’re finished. Tell me what you know.”

Ezequiel let out a relieved sigh, sinking back into the chair as  some sort of semblance of calm settled over him . “ Samar isn’t working alone, ” he began.

“We know that,” Altaira responded, immediately worried she had promised a pardon for nothing.

“You probably do know about other council members. But I’m not talking about them,” Ezequiel corrected. “He has a contact, someone who isn’t a member of the Brotherhood, who’s directing his actions.”

“Do you have a name?” Altaira asked, wondering why Ezequiel was being so vague.

“No. I’ve never seen him. But it’s the reason why your father died. He found out about this contact, so they ordered Samar to kill him.”

Altaira’s brow furrowed in confusion. She couldn’t help but doubt knowing of one man’s existence would be worth murdering someone. “And how do you know all this?”

“I overheard Samar planned to…do Alec in. I was pretty sure he had evidence about our deal, so if Alec ended up dead, and the Sentinels found that evidence, I knew I would be the first suspect on their list. So I went to his place, searching for the evidence. I didn’t find it in time—it ended up with Samar—but what I did find was information about Samar’s secret meetings with that contact of his. I’ve kept it to myself all this time, because I knew Samar had dirt against me, and he could still frame me for Alec’s murder. But now that has come forward, he has no bargaining chip, so I’m willing to tell you what I know.”

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a piece of paper that had clearly been handled a lot through the years—it was folded several times, with faint crease marks that hinted at refolding, and the edges of the folds were soft and fraying. He carefully unfolded it and slid it to her.

“This is another page from Alec’s journal. It shows the meeting schedule Samar followed. It was all speculative, but I’ve pieced together what he didn’t know and confirmed what he did have. Samar doesn’t know I know about this. If he did, there’s no way he would have allowed the Auraes to take me alive. If you can find out who this contact is, and get evidence that he’s a threat to the Auraes, you’ll have all you need to remove Samar from power.”

Altaira stared at the page, trying to commit it all to memory. “So I can take this then?” She asked.

“If you hold up your end of the bargain.”

Altaira nodded.  “I’ll do what I can,” she stated quickly.

He looked disappointed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “You never intended to help me.” She paused, unable to deny it. He looked so dejected. Shrugging slightly, he sunk back into his chair. “Fine then. At least you know the truth. Whoever this man is, he’s clearly dangerous. I don’t want anyone else dying because of this. ”

She frowned slightly, suddenly feeling a bit sympathetic.  It seemed, despite how desperate Ezequiel had been to save himself, at least part of him had wanted to share because it was the right thing to do.

Letting out a small sigh, she told him,  “Like I said, I’ll see what I can do. I don’t have  the power to pardon you, so I can’t guarantee that. B ut Mariea does, and she’s reasonable.  If Jocelyn won’t listen to me, I’ll talk to Mariea when she gets back .”

He nodded slightly. “ I guess that’s all I can ask, at the end of the day .” Then he frowned slightly, and his gaze flicked to the table. “I am sorry about what happened to Alec. He was a good man. I should have done something to stop Samar, instead of worrying about my own skin. I was just young and stupid.”

Altaira nodded, glancing away slightly as she resisted the urge to agree with him. By the look on his face, she guessed he had spent plenty of time torturing himself over the issue. She didn’t need to add to his suffering. “Well, you did the right thing, in the end. We’ll keep Samar from getting away with anything else like this, I promise.”

Ezequiel nodded, so she left, taking the paper with her. She folded it and placed it into her pocket before she met up with Jocelyn at the end of the hall . The Sentinel glanced up as she noticed Altaira approaching and asked, “What did he want?”

“Nothing important,”  Altaira replied, deciding she would talk to Jocelyn about the pardon later . For now, she wanted to keep the information she had to herself. “He’ll say whatever he can to get out of trouble.”

Jocelyn shook her head slightly. “The desperation of the guilty always amazes me. Well, if that’s all, I’m sorry you had to come all the way here for that.”

“It’s fine,” Altaira said with a shrug. “The walk was nice. But I really should be getting back.”

Jocelyn nodded and handed back her sword. “Have a nice walk back.”

When Altaira made it back to base, she immediately sought out Mefune. She found him alone in one of the basement gym rooms, and by the looks of it, he was just wrapping up a good workout. When she was sure they were alone, she allowed a small smile and pulled the paper Ezequiel had given her from her pocket to hold it up between them.

“What’s this?” He asked as he grabbed a water bottle from the cabinet and took a long drink from it.

“All the evidence we need to take down Samar. Ezequiel told me his whole scheme has some sort of outside connection. This paper has locations and times of their meetings.” She handed it over to him.

After wiping his hands off on a towel, he carefully unfolded the paper and studied it. “This is…surprisingly detailed,” he mused, clearly amazed by what she had brought him. “Where did Ezequiel get this?”

“Long story short, from my father. This little bit of information is apparently what caused Samar to order his murder.”

Mefune sobered. “So in other words we should be very careful with this and who knows we have it.”

Altaira nodded, catching on to his meaning. If Samar had already killed once to protect his crimes, there was little chance he’d hesitate to do so a second or third time.

“So who exactly is it that Samar is meeting with?” Mefune wondered.

“Don’t know. But if we were to, say, show up at one of these meetings, we could find out,” Altaira suggested.

Mefune considered it a moment. “It’s risky. We’d have to be careful to make sure we don’t get caught.”

“Yes, but if we could get some sort of proof that Samar is working with some sort of outside source to jeopardize the safety of the island, we could get him arrested without risking the safety of the Brotherhood. Ila would have no reason to believe the Brotherhood is involved, so we wouldn’t have to worry about starting a war.”

Mefune nodded slightly, and she could tell he was tempted to go through with her idea, but he was still concerned about the risk. “You think we can trust Ezequiel?”

“He seemed sincere.”

“I’m sure he did. If I were trying to lie my way out of trouble, I’d try to be as well,” Mefune stated, and suddenly she caught on to his meaning.

“I…don’t know. It’s hard to say for sure. He said Samar wasn’t aware he had this information. He seemed like he really wanted to make sure Samar couldn’t hurt anyone else.”

“Why not bring it up before now?” Mefune wondered. “If he was so worried about Samar, why not say something before he killed Alec, or Creta?”

“Because Samar knew of his deal with Alec. Ezequiel said he was afraid Samar would frame him for Alec’s murder. I could see why he’d be worried about that. With the deal he and Alec had, it would make sense for him to want Alec dead,” Altaira explained.

Mefune nodded slightly, and then he let out a small sigh. “This might be at least worth looking into. Do you recognize any of these places?” He asked, tapping the sheet of paper.

“No. Most of the references are vague. That’s probably on purpose. But all of them include coordinates, so if we can get ahold of a map of the island, we could locate them.”

Mefune nodded. “Let me shower quick, and then we can start working on figuring out these locations.”

Altaira nodded in agreement. “There’s bound to be an updated map in the library. I’ll track one down. Meet me at my place when you’re ready.”

Mefune nodded, so they went their separate ways. It didn’t take Altaira long to find a map and take it back to her apartment. Mefune joined her a few minutes afterwards. They spread the map out on the kitchen table, and then Altaira set the piece of paper down next to it.

“Alright, how do we want to do this?” Altaira asked.

“Think the library will miss this map if we accidentally forget to take it back?” Mefune wondered.

Altaira shrugged. “They had several.”

“Alright. I say we just mark all the locations, and label the next date they’re supposed to be there. Then we can decide which one would be the easiest for us to eavesdrop on without getting caught.”

Altaira nodded, so she went to grab the needed tools as Mefune claimed a seat. “I’ll read the coordinates and you mark them?” She suggested as she rejoined him and handed him the pen.

He nodded as he took the pen and turned the map towards him. She grabbed the paper, and they began.

It wasn’t long before they had ten or so marks on the map. “Okay, so how does the paper say when they’ll meet where?” Mefune wondered.

Altaira glanced over it. “There’s time intervals listed next to some of these. Three weeks. Two months. And…a second set of coordinates.” She set the paper down, pointing to the first on the list. “Look, two weeks, and then the second set of coordinates matches the one listed down there.”

“So they meet at that first location, and then two weeks later they meet at the second location?” Mefune guessed.

Altaira nodded. “That would make sense. It seems Ezequiel believed they met at this one last,” she said, pointing to the fourth listed set of coordinates.”

“Let’s figure out when they’ll be meeting at each of these locations next,” Mefune suggested.

This took a bit more effort than originally making the coordinates. After Mefune read her the last list of coordinates without a date, she considered the paper for a moment and then muttered, “I guess they’re meeting there tomorrow night.”

He glanced up to her, surprised. “Wow. The others are months out at the least,” he muttered, tapping the pen against the map. He wrote the date next to the mark, and thentapped the pen on his palm as he thought about it. “It’s not that bad of a location either.”

“Where is it?” Altaira asked as she leaned closer.

He pointed to the map. “It’s actually at the cove,” he told her. On the southern shore, near the Brotherhood’s headquarters, there was a small cove that allowed one or two small ships access to the island. It was well hidden and hadn’t been used since Verndale’s docks had been developed to allow easier access from large passenger ships. It was almost guaranteed to be abandoned.

“Could we eavesdrop without getting caught?” Altaira wondered.

“Possibly. I haven’t ever been down there myself, but if I remember right, the cliffs above the cove are covered in vegetation. I just don’t know if we’d be able to hear anyone down there, or really see anything if it’s late at night—which, it looks like the meeting time is later.”

“Hmm,” Altaira muttered, studying the map. “Do you know if there would be anywhere in the actual cove we could hide and overhear?”

“I don’t know. The amount of land available changes with the tide. We’d risk ending up in water if we stayed there too long. If we left any footprints on our way in, they’d know they aren’t alone. At that point, we’d have nowhere to run to. We’d be forced to fight our way out if confronted, and without knowing who this mysterious contact is, I’d really like to avoid that.”

Altaira nodded, understanding. “When’s the next one?”

“Not until July.” His brow furrowed slightly as he considered that. “I wonder what it is they discuss to feel the need to meet so regularly.”

“Unless they’re not just meeting to discuss things. It could be some sort of handoff,” Altaira guessed.

“That would make more sense than random meetings,” Mefune agreed with a slight nod. “But handoff of what?”

Altaira shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe that’s why the budget has been so tight; Samar’s been stealing funds and sending them to his benefactor.”

“Could be,” Mefune muttered, but he didn’t seem convinced. They fell silent as they debated it.

Then, Altaira shrugged. “I don’t know, I say we go to the cliffs that night, see what we find, and then if we don’t hear anything, we can try again in June. We just don’t have the time to wait until June, so I don’t like the idea of passing up this shot tomorrow night.”

Mefune nodded. “I agree.”

“Should we tell the others about this?”

Mefune shook his head. “I don’t trust Garrett to keep this quiet, and I don’t want to risk Daya. Having this information might as well be a death sentence.” Altaira nodded, frowning slightly as she was once again reminded just how dangerous Samar could be.

Altaira nodded. It made sense to her. “Well then, I guess we’re paying a late night visit to this cove.”

Mefune nodded, sighing slightly. “I just hope Ezequiel got his numbers right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow update, I ran into a bit of a snag on this chapter. But now it's much better than it was! Enjoy!


	13. Espionage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mefune and Altaira go spying.

** Chapter Thirteen **

** Espionage **

_** Mefune ** _

Mefune paused in a thicker clump of underbrush a few feet away from the top rim of the cove. The cover was thinner here than he had hoped, making getting closer without being spotted a bit difficult. The darkness would offer some protection, but with the bright moon above and the clear night sky, he worried it would be easy to spot anyone near the top of the cliffs. But they were still too far away to see or hear anything below. He scanned their surroundings, debating the best path.

Altaira came to stand next to him as he did. “Have you seen Samar?” She whispered.

“No, but I think he’s here.”

“What makes you so sure?”

He shrugged. “Just a feeling.” Then he pointed to a clump of bushes growing near a few larger rocks. “If we want to get any closer, that’s probably our best bet. Just stay low.”

Altaira nodded, so he moved forward at a crouch in an attempt to stay out of view from anyone in the cove. As he claimed a spot up against the rock, Altaira joined him. She tried to peer through the bushes to the cove below, but quickly discovered what he already had; it was too dark and they were too thick to see through.

They listened in silence for a moment. Then, from below, Mefune heard a voice. It was nearly too far away to make out what was being said, so he leaned closer, straining to make it out.

“Is it done?” The voice asked. Mefune didn’t recognize it. It sounded as though it belonged to a middle-aged man, and it carried a surprising weight to it. Whether it was the clearly British accent that caused it or the deep tone, Mefune wasn’t sure. His mind dreamt up an image to go along with it; a well-dressed businessman in a suit and long trench coat, carrying a cane, his graying hair carefully maintained.

“Yes,” came the reply, and it was clear this was Samar. Altaira glanced his way, a knowing look in her eye—it seemed Ezequiel was telling the truth, and the information on the paper was accurate. Samar was meeting in secret with some unknown benefactor.

“So then our plans are safe?” The man asked.

Samar hesitated before replying. “I don’t know. When he tried to threaten me, he said he had overheard only one of our meetings. But I’m not sure if he left evidence of this meeting anywhere. I sent people to search, but nothing has come up yet. If this knowledge spreads…”

“Then we will continue as we have and remove anyone who would challenge us,” the man finished, as if it was the simplest of things.

“You think they’re talking about Ezequiel?” Mefune whispered.

Altaira shrugged. “He said he had never seen Samar’s informant, but maybe he had?”

It made sense now why Samar hadn’t put up more of a defense for Ezequiel when he was arrested. He wanted him out of the way because of information he knew. But Mefune had a sinking feeling there was a chance removing Ezequiel from power wouldn’t be enough for Samar. He would want him silenced.

He turned to Altaira, about to voice his concerns, but before he could say anything, a bright, bronze orb of light appeared next to Mefune. He froze, staring at it in surprise, before his mind registered it could give them away. He quickly threw his coat over it, pulling it towards him.

“What was that?” The man asked below, while Altaira shot Mefune a look that seemed to ask much of the same question.

“I don’t know. You better go, just to be safe,” Samar urged. Mefune heard quick footsteps on the stone below, and it sounded as though one pair was approaching.

He straightened partly, backing away from the cliff as he gestured for Altaira to follow. They quickly made their way back into the trees. Once under their cover, Mefune straightened and continued at a slow jog away from any path Samar would take back to headquarters. Part of him wanted to sprint away, but he maintained his pace, favoring stealth over speed. Altaira kept glancing over her shoulder as they went, clearly worried they would be followed, but it seemed nobody had noticed them.

Just to be sure, he continued a while into the quiet of the forest, his attention on his surroundings to make sure he didn’t stumble across any other surprises—such as Tarapor. There wasn’t much of a chance they’d find any this close to headquarters, but seeing how his luck was going so far that night, he wouldn’t be too surprised they managed to find the only ones in the area.

Once they were far enough away Mefune felt it was safe to stop, he found a sheltered grove and turned back to face Altaira. “What happened?” She hissed.

“Jocelyn sent me a messenge. A very _inconveniently_ timed message,” he grumbled as he opened his coat and the orb flittered free.

Altaira sighed slightly. “Of course one had to come tonight. So what does it say?”

In response, Mefune tapped the surface of the orb, and it expanded to reveal a short handwritten message. Altaira stepped closer so she could read it as well. _There has been an attempt on Ezequiel’s life. I need to speak with the council right away._

“Well, that was quicker than I expected,” Mefune muttered.

“Wait, you knew this was going to happen?” Altaira wondered.

He shook his head. “I just guessed. It seems somehow Samar learned Ezequiel knew of his meetings. That’s what he was discussing with his contact in the cove. After what he did to Alec for learning of those meetings, I guessed he wouldn’t let Ezequiel live to possibly spill his secrets to the Auraes. It seems I was right, unfortunately.”

Altaira shook her head, a mixture of amazement and disbelief in her expression. “You would think in the heart of the Auraes, Ezequiel would be safe. How did Samar get away with an assassination attempt there?”

“I don’t know, but I’d like to find out. Let’s head to the city,” Mefune decided as he dismissed the message with a wave of his hand. He glanced up, getting his bearings quickly, and then turned northeast and started towards Verndale.

“Shouldn’t we tell the rest of the council? Jocelyn did ask to speak to all of them,” Altaira pointed out as she fell into step next to him.

He shook his head slightly. “If there’s any sort of evidence of what happened, I want to see it before Samar has the chance to get rid of it. If we hurry, we can make it to Verndale before word spreads to headquarters.” Altaira nodded, so Mefune picked up the pace, moving at a jog; they had a bit of a walk ahead of them, and he wanted to guarantee they’d beat Samar or anyone he sent to the city.

As they traveled, he couldn’t help but contemplate how stressful things had become in a matter of minutes. Samar had murdered someone for the information Mefune now carried in his pocket. Another man had nearly been killed, for overhearing the same type of meeting he and Altaira had just eavesdropped on. If anything, this put into perspective just how dangerous Samar really was.

That quickly made him realize they would be Samar’s next target if he found out they had been at the cove that night. Part of Mefune began to regret going. They hadn’t learned anything terribly useful, other than confirming Ezequiel’s speculations that Samar had a partner in his planning. Now, it seemed he had taken an unnecessarily huge risk with little to no reward. He was sure he could handle Samar. But it didn’t sit well with him that he had risked Altaira as well.

Finally, they reached the city, and Mefune quickly made his way to the jail, Altaira following closely. They were met by a team of Sentinels outside the front entrance. One stopped them and said, “Nobody’s allowed inside right now. There’s an active investigation going on.”

“We know what happened. Jocelyn sent us a message requesting to speak with the council. Where is she?” Mefune responded.

“Right here,” Jocelyn stated from behind, so Mefune turned to her. “Come on, I’ll fill you in on what I know.” She gestured them inside, so the Sentinels stepped aside and allowed the three to pass.

“So is Ezequiel alive?” Altaira asked as they made their way to the cell blocks.

“Barely. I just got back from escorting him to the hospital,” Jocelyn replied. She shook her head slightly. “Poor bloke was in bad shape. We’re still not sure he’ll make it through the night, but we’re hoping.”

She paused outside of an open cell, and gestured for them to look inside. After one glance, it was clear to Altaira why Ezequiel wasn’t so well off—there was an impressive amount of blood pooled in a corner of the room, and some had splattered on the walls. The bed had been overturned and the blanket lay in shreds on the floor. There were a couple Sentinels moving around the cramped room carefully, documenting the scene and looking for useful evidence.

“This happened a couple hours ago. Ezequiel should be dead, but by some miracle, the guard on duty happened to walk by and see him in time to get a Medic down here. He had a major wound to the back of the head and he had been stabbed at least twice from what I saw. It was clear they intended to kill him, but his attacker did a messy job of it. I’m thinking they were interrupted by an approaching guard or Ezequiel put up more of a fight than anticipated. Either way, his wounds aren’t fatal on their own, but he lost a lot of blood and we don’t know what kind of damage the trauma to his head did to his brain.”

Mefune let out a sigh. “So if he did see who attacked him, there’s a chance he won’t even be able to tell us,” he muttered.

“Right,” Jocelyn nodded with a grim frown. “There were signs of a struggle, so I’m sure he saw their face, unless the attacker was disguised. I’m just amazed whoever did this managed to slip past the Sentinels on duty. It’s not easy to get past our magics.”

Mefune wasn’t particularly familiar with Sentinel magic, but he at least knew it allowed them a hyper-awareness of their surroundings that was particularly hard to fool. “So it’s probably safe to assume whoever did this either didn’t have an aura, so he couldn’t be sensed, or is trained to mask himself from the Sentinels.”

“Which, of the two, I think it’s most likely someone with an aura,” she muttered.

“Why?” Altaira wondered.

Jocelyn glanced to her, clearly debating whether or not to answer, before she shrugged and said, “We might not be able to sense someone without an aura, but that means they wouldn’t be able to sense us either. They would have made mistakes. This person didn’t.”

“Interesting,” Mefune muttered.

Jocelyn nodded. Then, she turned to Altaira. “You were the last person to speak to him other than my staff. Did anything he said lead you to believe he might be attacked? Or did he mention anyone he might have been afraid of?”

Altaira glanced to Mefune, clearly wondering if she should mention Samar, but he wasn’t sure how to respond without Jocelyn seeing. Already, the Sentinel’s gaze had passed from Altaira to him briefly, and he guessed she hadn’t missed the silent exchange. “No,” Altaira eventually sighed. “He was throwing around random accusations against multiple members of the council. None of it seemed even marginally believable. But…” She glanced to Mefune again. “We’ve been keeping an eye on those he mentioned, just in case.”

“So only the two of you are aware of what Ezequiel said?” Jocelyn asked. Mefune nearly missed her carefully hidden suspicion. He realized it did seem odd only they knew of Ezequiel’s accusations. As members of the council, there was a chance they were threatened by them. It seemed Jocelyn had come to the same conclusion. He guessed she was wondering if they had tried to silence him.

“Do you mind if we speak with you privately for a moment?” He asked. Altaira glanced to him, looking a bit surprised.

Jocelyn nodded and gestured them farther down the hallway where they were alone. After making sure nobody had followed them, Mefune told her, “In reality, we are looking into some of his accusations. Altaira came to me and Daya—who is also on the council—because we were the only ones Ezequiel didn’t mention. He seemed most suspicious of Samar, but nothing he said holds up so far. We’re not dismissing it, but…after this, I’d say it’s worth saying someone somewhere wanted him silenced.”

“Hmm. That’s good to know, though it’s concerning members of your council—and especially Samar—might not be trustworthy. Do you think he had anything to do with it?”

“It’s hard to say for sure at this point,” Mefune responded.

Jocelyn nodded. “Will you keep me informed on what you learn?”

“We will as best as we can,” Mefune agreed. “Right now it’s very hard to know who to trust or what is accurate. But if we find solid proof for any of Ezequiel’s accusations, we’ll tell you so we can work through proper legal channels to deal with it.”

This seemed to satisfy Jocelyn. She nodded. “Will you fill in the rest of the council on what happened here? It would be interesting to see their reactions.”

“I agree. We’ll tell them,” Altaira promised.

“Is there anything else you would like us to see here?” Mefune wondered.

“No, that was pretty much it,” Jocelyn said with a slight shrug. “I’ll keep you updated on Ezequiel’s condition.”

Mefune nodded. He glanced sidelong at Jocelyn and stated, “Hopefully the killer doesn’t return to finish the job.” He was sure Samar would try again, and felt he at least had to attempt to give Jocelyn a heads up.

She shook her head slightly, her expression darkening. “If he does, we’ll be ready this time.” Mefune didn’tdoubt it.

With that, Altaira and Mefune started back towards base. It was quickly approaching morning, and Mefune was growing weary. Altaira seemed tired too. But there was still a lot on both of their minds. The situation had left so many loose ends, and Mefune didn’t care for it. He could only hope Samar hadn’t spotted him or Altaira that night.

“We should probably lay low for a little while,” he muttered to Atlaira once they wereback in the forest.

She glanced at him, and then nodded, her gaze falling to the ground. He wondered if she was as worried as he was. “It’s just a precaution,” he added. “Just until we’re sure Samar didn’t see either of us. I don’t think he did, but…”

“Yeah, I get it,” she stated softly, as if she didn’t want to follow that thought to conclusion.

“Good thing is, we know Samar is willing to act. We have a heads up and can be careful.”

“I just wished we knew who Samar got to go after Ezequiel. He’s a fighter, like us. He wasn’t a small man, either. Whoever it was would have had to be strong and skilled.”

“Not necessarily. If they caught Ezequiel by surprise, they had the advantage; he was weaponless and confined. It wasn’t like he could flee.”

“I just wonder how they even got to him. Could it have been one of the Sentinels?” Altaira wondered.

“Why would the Auraes help Samar?” Mefune wondered. Though, the question left him wondering if it were possible Samar had allies amongst the Auraes. People who were displeased with the current government might be easy enough to sway—though it didn’t seem there were many.

Altaira simply shrugged, so the conversation faded. After a while, Altaira stated, “I’m surprised you told Jocelyn we’re suspicious of Samar.”

“I had to give her something. I think she found it a bit suspicious we were the only ones who knew about Ezequiel’s accusations and then he ended up being attacked. The last thing I wanted was for her to not trust us. If we do learn something about Samar, we’re going to need to be able to prove it without a shadow of a doubt, or he could play it against us.”

Altaira nodded. “We should probably fill Daya in on this then, just in case Jocelyn asks her about what we told her.” Mefune nodded. After a moment, she asked, “So what do we do about Samar’s secret confidant?”

Mefune let out a small sigh, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I feel like tonight ended up being an entire waste of time. We still don’t know who he is or have solid proof he has any ill intentions towards the Brotherhood or the Auraes. And we can’t wait until their next meeting in June to learn more. Plus, if for some reason Samar believes his meeting locations are compromised, he’ll probably change things up.”

Altaira nodded. “Do you think if you asked Samar about it, you’d get anywhere with that?” She asked cautiously. Clearly, she didn’t believe he would, but it seemed she had to ask anyway.

“I doubt Samar will trust me with that level of information. After the thing with Garrett and the journal pages, he’s been a bit more tight-lipped.”

Altaira sighed. “Well, I guess we try and find evidence against other members of the council and move forward with that plan.”

Mefune nodded, but he had the feeling they were running out of time. Samar clearly wasn’t as much of a fool as he would like to believe—he had caught both Alec, Ezequiel, and Creta and Garrett in their attempts to uncover his secrets. It was only a matter of time before he decided Mefune and possibly everyone connected to him was too much of a threat to keep around.

Which lead him to wonder why Samar hadn’t confronted or attempted to silence him already. If he was suspicious, it seemed reasonable to assume he would act. _Maybe he isn’t as suspicious of me as I originally thought,_ he mused. Or could there be another reason he was keeping Mefune alive?

He shook his head slightly, quickly realizing the rabbit whole of anxiety that thought would take him down. He couldn’t lose his nerve now, not when it was so blatantly obvious Samar had no intentions of showing mercy to anyone who may be an enemy. It seemed his life had now become a race against Samar. Whoever found out the truth first would win, and most likely be the only party left in the end. Or, they both fail, and a war starts in the middle of it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, another chapter! So who do you think Samar met with?


	14. Fear of the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ila is attacked, and lashes out at the Brotherhood.

** Chapter Fourteen **

** Fear of the Dark **

_** Ila ** _

Ila sat at her office, studying the list of things she wanted to talk about during the council meeting she had later that night. On the top of her list was updating the council on Mariea’s progress. The only unfortunate thing about that was she hadn’t heard from Mariea since she had left Raidenya. It left her with depressingly little to report. And made her more than a little worried for her friend.

She let out a heavy sigh, swiveling in her chair to face the large window behind her. The sun was setting in the distance, reflecting brightly against the ocean far away, and the buildings of the city below. Life went on, as usual, but she had begun to sense a tension in the streets she hadn’t ever felt on Raidenya. The public were getting restless over the mysterious deaths, as hard as Ila tried to keep the news under wraps. It was hard to find it in her to keep reassuring them, when she was starting to get just as impatient as they were. She wanted answers. She just didn’t know where to turn for them.

She had tried to call Mariea several times since she left, with no luck. With the meeting quickly approaching, she decided to try once again. She figured she had waited long enough for Mariea to be awake, so she brought her aura to light and crafted the necessary spell.

After a painfully long time, the golden orb before her expanded and Mariea appeared before her. Ila let out a relieved sigh. “I was starting to think something had happened to you,” she told her.

“No, nothing too major. Sorry I haven’t called sooner,” Mariea told her with a sheepish half smile.

“Wait, ‘nothing _too major_ ’? That means something happened,” Ila quickly questioned.

Mariea winced slightly. Clearly, she hadn’t intended for Ila to read into her words too much. “There…was a bit of an incident at the airport. Mae’s ID failed, and she and Bracken were arrested. Luckily, we got it cleared up.”

Instantly, Ila’s festering anger and frustration turned towards Samar, knowing he had been in charge of supplying Mariea and her companions with the needed documents to travel to New York safely. “The Brotherhood probably sabotaged you.”

“I…don’t they they did. Cato, who runs the base in New York, was the one who helped us get everything fixed. If the Brotherhood sabotaged me, why would they help us fix it?”

“Still seems suspicious,” Ila grumbled. She knew she’d never convince Mariea the Brotherhood wasn’t trustworthy, so she decided to change the subject. “Well, are things going well other than that? Have you learned anything useful?”

“Nothing yet, unfortunately, but I at least know where to look now. We’re working on getting the funds we need to buy a boat.”

“A boat?”

Mareia smiled slightly as she nodded. “I’m following…a bread crumb trail of sorts. My next destination is an island somewhere in the Caribbean.” 

Ila nodded, trying not to seem disappointed. “Any idea when you’ll be back?”

Mariea shook her head. “No idea at this point. I’ll do better keeping you updated.”

Ila nodded. “I better let you go then. I have a meeting to get to.”

Mariea nodded, and the image faded. Sighing, Ila stood and made her way upstairs, where the other members of the council were already starting to gather. Once again, Samar chose to show, which was both a relief and annoying. Ila would rather never have to interact with the man, but if she wanted to confront him on his latest crime, that unfortunately required him to be present.

She started the meeting as soon as the last member, Misha, joined them, and impatiently waited while everyone reported on their individual duties. She was disappointed but not surprised to hear of more deaths. It seemed the numbers were growing. This only added to her anger. If Samar was trying to sabotage Mariea, that would only confirm her belief that he was somehow behind everything that was happening to them. She knew she wasn’t alone in her beliefs—since his visit to the Brotherhood a few months ago, Gavin struggled to trust them. Now, if she could onlyconvince the rest of the council of what she knew.

When it was finally her turn, Ila told the group, “Mariea has made it to New York, though she ran into trouble upon arriving. For some reason, some of their IDs didn’t work.” She turned her gaze to Samar. “Do you know why this happened?”

“Yes, the New York base reported as such. I’m looking into it,” Samar replied, but his tone suggested he couldn’t care less what had happened.

“I’ll await anxiously for that report,” Ila told him, making it clear she didn’t intend to allow him to brush the matter aside. “I would hate for anything to happen to Mariea. It does seem a bit suspicious that she’d be interrupted on such an important trip by something such as this.”

Samar’s fist tightened on the table, his lazy posture and disinterest evaporating quickly as his gaze snapped to her. “Are you implying I purposefully sabotaged her?”

“No, of course not. But maybe someone who works for you did,” Ila stated with a small shrug.

“Making IDs for people who don’t exist is a lot more complicated than you would think. If you would just allow us to maintain false records for you, it wouldn’t be so suspicious to the world’s governments for people to just appear in their systems. Their computers and technology advance faster than your magics, and we’re stuck using ancient technology in an attempt to keep up. We did our part as best as we could, considering the circumstances.”

“Hmm,” Ila muttered. It was clear she wasn’t going to get anywhere with this argument, considering the Aureas were somewhat guilty of what he was saying. Ila hated technology. She much preferred using magic to solve their problems. “Well, like I said, I eagerly await that report.” Samar seemed to debate arguing further, but then he nodded curtly and turned away.

The meeting went on, and by the time they wrapped everything up on the agenda, it was dark. This time of year, the sun still set well before what Ila considered properly night. It didn’t help that the meeting ran long. Since the attacks had started, she hated being out after dark, but she had made a point to not change her habits. She didn’t want the people to see her fear. So, she had no choice but to walk home, as planned. 

Before she could head home, she had a few things to grab from her office, so she headed there first. As she picked up her bags and reached to turn the desk lamp off, she heard a soft knock at the door and turned to notice Jocelyn standing at the doorway. “Have a moment?” She asked.

“I was just on my way out. Can this wait until the morning?” Ila wondered, trying not to sound annoyed.

“No, but I’ll be brief,” Jocelyn stated, her voice hard, warranting no room for disagreement. That was one thing Ila admired about Jocelyn—she stood by her convictions and could be just as stubborn as Ila herself, something Mariea never seemed to manage. She’d give Jocelyn her time.

“What is it then?” She asked, abandoning the lamp and straightening to face Jocelyn.

“I’m worried your hatred towards the Brotherhood will stir up contention we do not need,” Jocelyn stated bluntly.

Ila scoffed. “Please. I’m not doing anything but pursuing the truth.”

“I’m almost certain the Brotherhood has nothing to do with the threat we’re currently facing. You chastising Samar over every little thing is going to drive a wedge between us and them, one we cannot afford. If we end up having to fight off whatever it is attacking us, we will most likely need their manpower,” Jocelyn pressed.

Ila sighed, leaning against her desk as she folded her arms. “I’ll admit, I can be a little biased. Old grudges are hard to let go,” she muttered, before looking up to meet Jocelyn’s gaze. “You’re sure you can trust them?”

“Positive.”

Ila nodded. “Alright, I’ll lay off of it for a while, I guess. But if I learn they are involved, I expect you to back me in removing them from the playing field.”

Jocelyn nodded. “And I will, it if it comes to that. I just don’t want a war on our hands.” With that, she turned and left.

Ila watched her leave, then shook her head as she went back to gathering her stuff. Jocelyn was a good fighter, even a good leader, but sometimes she missed the smaller nuances of the political side of their jobs. Ila wouldn’t back down from protecting her people, even if nobody around her seemed to understand what she was doing. The Brotherhood wouldn’t get away with destroying her home.

With that, she started outside, into the streets of Verndale. The city at night had always been a peaceful place. Despite Ila’s mistrust of the darkness, she had always felt comfortable wandering the streets. As the nights grew warmer, it seemed more and more people were out, enjoying a night on the town, and such was true for that night. A decent crowd bustled around the shops near campus, brightening the darkened city. For a while, Ila passed through them without thinking much of everything around her, instead dwelling on the frustrations of the afternoon.

But as she strolled farther from the busy throngs of downtown, she found herself wary of her surroundings. Despite her casual stance, she scanned the streets around her, feeling tense with anticipation for something she could not see, her aura barely kept invisible. Something wasn’t right—the tight knot in her stomach made that clear—but she had no idea what.

_It’s just these mysterious attacks that’s got me all antsy,_ she thought, remembering Mariea telling her of her own close call. _But I don’t need to worry. They’ve never been so close to the city center, so out in the open,_ she told herself. _There’s too many witnesses, too many Sentinels._ Her reasoning did little to calm her nerves. Deciding stressing over it wasn’t worth it, she picked up her pace, wanting to get home as soon as possible.

A scream from behind snapped her from her pretended calm as Ila whirled around, her golden aura flashing to view around her. Dark figures slinked through the night, lit by murky green auras. They attacked a group of Auraes, who, like Ila, had wandered from the main crowds.

As she rushed to assist them, she studied her enemy in the time it took her to reach them; they seemed human, nothing like the Tarapor, making her wonder if these beings weren’t something different. And they knew how to use their auras. They met any resistance easily, and, as Ila watched, the Auraes began dying, too suddenly to make sense. One minute, they were fighting off their attacker, the next, they fell to the ground in agony.

She reached the group and quickly joined the fight, dragging one by the collar of his shirt away from the Aurae he was attacking. Before she could pull him far, he twisted from her grasp and quickly turned his attention on her. Her aura reacted naturally to block the acidic green energy he threw her way, but she was surprised by the strength of the attack.

Deciding she would need every advantage she could get, Ila called on an old favorite of hers—Fire Magic. Flames leapt to life to surround her fists just as she threw a punch at her attacker, managing to clip him on the chin before he could stumble out of her grasp. The flames caught and quickly spread, but then suddenly they were out, and he was gone, leaving nothing but a pile of ash at Ila’s feet. She blinked in surprise but had little time to contemplate it; there were more enemies.

Noticing one approaching from behind, she sent flames her way, but the woman dodged easily, moving with a grace Ila quickly envied. _What are these people? And why are they attacking us?_ She wondered for the umpteenth time that night alone. Her attacker quickly closed the distance, despite Ila’s best efforts to fend her off.

When she was about a foot away, Ila was suddenly engulfed in an unholy pain. Her aura shuddered, and she lost control of the flames as they winked from existence and she fell to her knees.

Just before she blacked out, relief found her as quickly as the pain had overwhelmed her. Gasping for air, she rolled onto her side and pushed herself up on one elbow. She looked around for her attacker, but found instead a familiar figure standing over her. Arlen, her younger brother, contended with the woman who had attacked her. As she watched, still dazed, he quickly ended the fight, leaving behind another pile of ash.

Turning to her, he hurried to her side. “Arlen? What are you doing here?” she asked as he approached.

“Saving you, it seems,” he replied, offering her a hand to help her up. Concern had replaced his usual bravado, despite how Ila knew he would try not to let it show.

She smiled slightly as she reached up to take his hand. “Well, thanks.” Unsteadily, she rose to her feet, leaning heavily on him for support. Pain exploded through her head, briefly making it hard to focus on her surroundings, but it faded to a bearable level. _Man, what did she do to me?_ She wondered.

Wanting to hide her apparent weakness, she attempted to stand straighter as she asked, “How did you know I needed help?”

“I’m a Sentinel. It’s my job to know when there’s trouble, and it’s even easier to know when my family is involved.”

Another Aurae approached bearing the markings of a Medic. “Are you alright?” he asked Ila.

Annoyed that she had seemed weak, Ila quickly replied, “Besides the pounding headache and nausea, I’m fine.” The Medic nodded, heading off. By the looks of the crowd around her, she wasn’t the only one who had been injured, and the Medic still had many to tend to.

Glancing to Arlen, she asked, “What were those things?”

“Whatever’s been causing the disappearances. We don’t know where they come from, what they are, or how to stop them. They’re killing even the Sentinels faster than we can keep up with, and they grow bolder with each attack. We simply can’t fight them. Somehow, they disable our auras, or something like that,” he admitted, looking grim.

“Is that what she did to my aura?”

“Most likely.” Then he brightened slightly. “Because you survived, we might be able to learn more about it from you.”

She sighed. “All I can tell you is it hurt like none other.” Glancing around, she took stock of the situation. The attackers had disappeared, and Medics poured in to help those involved in the fight. “Mind walking me home? I don’t think we’re needed here anymore.”

He glanced around, obviously a bit reluctant to leave, and then nodded. “It’s probably best we get you home.”

He helped her through the streets and the quickly growing crowd, his uniform and authoritative commands quickly clearing a path. Finally, they reached her apartment. She let them in and then quickly sank into an armchair in the front room, letting out a heavy sigh.

“Will you be fine if I head back out?” Arlen inquired.

“I should be,” she managed, her words heavy with exhaustion.

Obviously uncertain of that fact, he hesitated. “Here, let me get you something to drink before I leave. Water will help.” He moved to the kitchen, quickly finding a cup and filling it with water from the dispenser on the fridge. Returning with it, he pressed it into her hands.

She took a sip, if only to make him feel better. She felt nauseous enough she worried she wouldn’t handle it well. But the cool liquid did seem to refresh her a bit, calming the ache in her head and settling her stomach.

Leaning back against the chair, she asked, “What are we going to do about this?”

“I don’t know,” Arlen admitted as he sunk into the chair across the coffee table from her. “Jocelyn said she was going to suggest a curfew next meeting, but she worried they would just start attacking during the day. What we really need is more people to defend the city. Ways to protect ourselves.”

Suddenly, an idea came to her as her mind strayed to her conversation with Jocelyn earlier that evening. “I know someone who has a ton of fighters ready to go.”

“Who?”

“The Brotherhood,” she stated, sitting up as the idea grew on her. In total, the Brotherhood easily outnumbered the Auraes, and they were all trained to fight without auras, giving them an immediate advantage over this new enemy; their odd power was useless. And, if Jocelyn’s pleas earlier hadn’t convinced Ila the Brotherhood wasn’t involved in the attacks, her experiences that night had. Clearly, these beings wielded powers the auraless Brotherhood wouldn’t be able to manage. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t do their part to help fight the new threat.

“You think they’ll help?” Arlen wondered. He was well aware of the tension between the Brotherhood and the Auraes at the moment, and Ila’s opinion of the matter.

“I’ll make them,” she decided, feeling determined. “I’m done playing their games. It’s time they prove they’re actually loyal to us. Now’s their chance.” She nodded, set on the idea now. “I’ll speak to them tomorrow.”

Arlen looked uncertain, but he simply nodded. He knew better than to argue with her. “I’ll inform Jocelyn. She’ll be grateful to know there may be backup coming.”

Ila nodded. Jocelyn would be happy to know Ila had taken her advice to heart, and even gone beyond. “Now, I think I’m going to sleep.” With that, she unceremoniously finished off her glass of water and shuffled to her room.

* * *

_** Mefune ** _

Things hit a stalemate after Altaira’s election and the fiasco with Ezequiel. Mefune still felt it wasn’t safe to continue to pry into the council’s business, at least for a little while. Ezequiel remained in a comma, and though there was a decent chance he’d wake up, Mefune wasn’t optimistic.

Altaira didn’t like waiting. It was quickly obvious she wasn’t a patient person, and now that she knew Samar had been the one to order her father’s murder, she was even more set on seeing an end to his power. Even Mefune had to admit he was growing frustrated with the current game of cat and mouse. But he knew he had to keep her from doing anything irrational in her eagerness.

So, on impulse, and to pass the time and give them a chance to talk when nobody would be suspicious, he decided to see if he could get her to train with him in the mornings. After dressing in light exercise clothes, he went in search of her. He found her in the library, perusing books in a way that made him guess she wasn’t finding anything interesting.

As he approached, she glanced his way and asked, “Need something?”

“I was heading to the practice circles to get a little sparring in and was wondering if you wanted to come with me,” he told her.

She paused, looking slightly surprised. “Like…to spar with you?”

He raised an eyebrow slightly, confused why she was so surprised. “Of course. What, did you think I just wanted you to watch?”

She scoffed, shaking her head in annoyance and what seemed like a hint of embarrassment. “No thanks, I’m…busy. Looking for something.”

He shook his head, slightly annoyed she was being so difficult. It was like this every time he asked her to do something other than hunt Tarapor and scheme against Samar, as if she couldn’t understand why he bothered. Part of him wondered as well, but for some reason, the more she resisted, the more he felt the need to try.

So, he decided to make the offer a little more tempting. “Come on, don’t you want to know how I beat you?” he asked her.

She stilled, pausing with a book halfway off the shelf, and glanced sidelong at him. Then she let out an annoyed huff as she shoved the book back on the shelf before stating, “Fine, just this once. Let me change into something else. I’ll meet you down there.”

He resisted the urge to smirk in triumph as he nodded and told her, “See you there.”

Leaving the library behind, he started down, to the same arena where he and Altaira had dueled a few weeks ago. When not being used for large competitions such as their duel—which didn’t happen often—the space was split into several smaller rings for sparring. The area sat at the base of the cliff headquarters was built into, on a strip of sand surrounded by large boulders on all but one side. It had once been a cove, but with some help from the Auraes, the Brotherhood had dried it up decades ago to give them a secure, outdoor sparring area. Bleachers had been carved into most of the rocks, allowing for spectators, but now they were empty. Save for a few others who were sparring in different sections, Mefune was alone.

He took up a pair of wooden practice blades from shelves near the door and staked out a corner of the arena to wait. Luckily, it wasn’t long before Altaira joined him. She hurried towards him, still looking a bit miffed.

Handing her one of the two practice swords, he told her, “You didn’t have to come.”

“I wanted to,” she replied. “I do want to know how you beat me.”

He smiled slightly and nodded. “It was simple, really. Your grip is loose when you deflect an attack on your left side.”

She sighed slightly. “I never did fix that,” she muttered. “It’s from an old injury from the Purges. I learned to compensate for it, but it left my form weak.”

“So we fix it,” Mefune stated with a slight nod. “Don’t be too surprised I beat you so quickly. Most of the Brotherhood is actually a little weak when it comes to blade to blade fights.”

“What do you mean?” She wondered, confused.

“Most of us only maintain the basics of proper use of a sword. With the Tarapor, the only thing that really matters is speed. We don’t need to be horribly accurate in our strikes, as long as it lands, since it only takes a small touch for the magic in our swords to do their job. I, on the other hand, made sure to maintain proper technique, which gives me an advantage.”

“Huh,” she muttered with a nod, considering his words for a moment. “Well, now that I know it’s still a problem, let’s spar, and I’ll work on it.”

He nodded, so she gave the practice blade a couple experimental swings, and then lunged. He met her attack easily, and the sparring began.

At first, he was entirely in teaching mode—doing what he could to help her correct her form and pointing out other mistakes along the way. She always scowled at him every time he did, but she took his suggestions to heart, and he even saw improvement in the little time they were there.

After a while, he forgot he was supposed to be helping her, and simply found himself absorbed in the fighting, enjoying himself. Once she let go of her original annoyance, she relaxed, and seemed to actually be enjoying herself as well, something he thought impossible while in his presence.

He won another match, and she stepped back, panting slightly. “One more round,” she urged after only a few moments.

“You sure?” he asked. He didn’t want to admit he was tiring any more than she did.

She nodded, her eyes bright with determination. “I’m going to win you one of these times.”

He chuckled. “We’ll see,” he agreed, before attacking again. He caught her off guard, and she backed up, stuck on the defensive against his onslaught. They were close to the bleacher walls already, so it wasn’t hard to force her back against them with a hard shove against her blade. He pressed close, pinning her in place with the weight of his sword against hers.

“Give up?” he teased.

She didn’t answer, just smirked slightly as she debated her options. For someone who was cornered, she seemed way too positive. Elated, even. He decided she was actually quite beautiful when she wasn’t scowling. This close, it was much easier to notice the little details, like how her eyes weren’t black like he had originally thought, but more a deep indigo.

Suddenly, she slipped sideways and escaped his grasp, making him realize he had backed off slightly while he had lost himself in thought. She swiped at his unprotected back, and he barely managed to get his blade up in time to defend himself.

“What was that?” she called. “Why did you let me go?”

“I…don’t know,” he admitted, bewildered. He couldn’t remember the last time he had lost a match because he was distracted. Dismissing it as a brief lapse in judgement caused by his growing exhaustion, he pressed his attack again and eventually won the duel.

She sighed, allowing her sword to fall to her side as she ran the back of her hand over her forehead in a futile attempt to wipe away the sweat that had gathered there. “Well, I’ll just have to beat you next time.”

“Next time?” he repeated with a raised eyebrow. “I thought this was a one-time thing.”

“Don’t get too excited. I’m only allowing another match because I want to win,” she corrected quickly.

He smiled softly. “Alright. Just once more.” He mentally made a note to not let her win, just to see how long he could drag this out for. He found himself surprisingly excited for round two.

It became a routine of theirs quickly after. When they didn’t have a patrol or weren’t hunting Tarapor for Samar, they spent their mornings together. Altaira continued to claim it was just because she wanted a real chance to beat him, but he knew she enjoyed it as much as he did. The mornings had always been his favorite part of the day, and now they were even better.

As they wrapped up another morning, Altaira let out a small huff. “I’ll beat you one day,” she decided.

He smirked slightly. “Maybe. If I allow you to,” he teased. She rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t fade. In truth, she was improving fast, and he was hard pressed to keep up with the rapid improvement. He was sure she’d manage her goal sooner rather than later.

“Mefune?” A voice called from behind. Turning, he discovered Garrett standing behind him. “Sorry to interrupt. Samar needs the Council to gather immediately,” he informed the pair.

“Again? We just met yesterday,” Altaira complained, her shoulders slumping slightly. “Do these ‘emergency’ meetings happen a lot?”

“Just recently they have,” Mefune replied as he started after Garrett.

As they reached the Council room, Mefune was surprised to find Ila sitting on the front row near the council, watching the members trail in with a hint of impatience. He glanced to Altaira, who looked just as confused. _This can’t be good,_ he thought.

It took a good while to gather the council—many of the international members were still present—and the longer Ila had to wait, the more irritated she became. When the last member joined them, Samar turned his angry gaze to her and nearly spat, “Alright Ila, what do you want this time?”

She stood slowly, strolling to the center of the space before them with her hands resting against her back. “Two nights ago, I was attacked by these strange creatures that have been assaulting the city for a month now.”

Before she could say more, Samar interrupted. “We’ve told you, we know nothing about them. We’re doing everything we can to protect the city. We can’t offer anything more!”

Ila raised a hand to stop him. “I’m not blaming you for the attacks,” she stated. “But there is something more you can offer.”

“And what would that be?” Garrett asked.

“Fighters. We need many more of them in the city to help combat this threat, and you have them.”

Silence fell as her statement hung in the air. Whether it was an order or a request, Mefune couldn’t tell. Finally, Samar started from his stupor. “We’re fighting the Tarapor,” he spluttered.

With an acknowledging nod, Ila stated, “Yes, but you have more than enough men for that. I’m only asking you to do your part to defend the city.”

“We barely have enough manpower as it is to cover the patrols,” Altaira stated. “We couldn’t possibly pull any from there to protect the city.”

“You have members scattered across the globe. Pull some from there,” Ila insisted.

“Then those cities would be left vulnerable,” one of the international members protested.

Ila’s gaze passed over the council as she frowned slightly. When it rested on Samar, she stated, “Maybe I’m not making myself clear. If it weren’t for the Auraes, this island wouldn’t exist. If it weren’t for the Auraes, the Brotherhood wouldn’t exist. Therefore, we are the ones with the power here. You will support us in this effort, as you rightfully owe us, or I will be forced to repay you with the same favor—no support, no money, no weapons. Nothing.”

“Here’s another fun fact for you,” Altaira spat, clearly irritated by Ila’s patronizing demeanor. “If it weren’t for the Auraes, the Tarapor wouldn’t exist either! Don’t forget we’re the only ones standing between you and them. You’ll quickly learn what happens if we aren’t there to defend you.”

“She’s right, Ila. I will not bend to your threats. See what happens when you turn your back on us,” Samar stated coldly.

Ila stared at him for a solid minute, as if she couldn’t quite comprehend that he was telling her no. Then she sighed. “Very well. I hate to see the end of such an old alliance over something so petty.”

“You have only yourself to blame for that,” Samar dismissed, his tone heavy. “Leave, before I have you removed from the premises.”

Ila seemed to debate saying more, before she turned on her heels and left. The door echoed loudly through the vast room as it closed behind her, emphasizing the tense, anger-filled silence.

“That Aurae will pay,” Darius growled after a moment. “Nobody threatens us like that.”

“They all will,” Samar spat. “I’m done dealing with people like her. Our plan moves forward now.” This sent ripples of surprise through the crowd—clearly nobody had expected him to move forward so quickly. What surprised Mefune more was how few seemed confused by this statement. Clearly, everyone knew what he was referring to, or at least was feigning understanding. _His influence goes farther than we thought,_ Mefune worried silently.

“When will we attack?” Another council member asked, sounding all too eager. Mefune glanced to him, realizing it was one of the international members. He searched for a name, or at least a location, but found he had never been introduced. As he glanced around the room, he realized he didn’t recognize any of the international members, despite having met a few over the years. Had Samar been replacing them with ones loyal to him?

Mefune forced this thought to the side, focusing on the conversation at hand. Samar debated the man’s question for a moment in silence, clearly considering his need for vengeance against their chances of success. “A week. Sooner, if we can manage it. We only need to finalize the last details of how we want things to play out, and then we’re ready.”

It took a lot to keep Mefune’s despair contained. All their efforts unraveled before him as he watched helplessly. One week. Possibly less, and with how bent on revenge Samar was, Mefune wasn’t expecting to get an entire seven days. He glanced to Altaira. Seeming to understand the difficult turn things had taken, she gave a subtle nod, and he remembered her promise from earlier. _Wherever it takes you._

_Well, we’re about to find out where that will be._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm curious, what do you think if Ila? She's an interesting character. Comment below!


	15. Last Ditch Effort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mefune and Altaira try one last attempt to stop Samar.

** Chapter Fifteen **

** Last Ditch Effort **

_** Altaira ** _

Altaira, Garrett, Daya, and Mefune gathered soon after the council meeting, tucked in a quiet corner of the base far from prying ears. The minute they were sure they were alone, Daya stated, “Now what do we do?”

“We have to prevent this attack somehow,” Altaira stated, hearing the desperation in her own voice.

“But…how? We have no support. Just the four of us—three, since he won’t actually help,” Daya reminded them, shooting a frustrated glance at Garrett, who shrugged helplessly.

“He can’t attack the city if he doesn’t have Tarapor,” Mefune stated.

They paused, turning to him in surprise. “What are you thinking?” Garrett wondered.

“We destroy the Tarapor he’s collected, we prevent him from attacking the city, at least for a little while,” Mefune clarified.

“There’s only one problem with that,” Altaira pointed out. “We don’t know where he keeps the Tarapor. Nobody does, except for his closest supporters.”

“Yeah, every time we’ve brought some back, he’s insisted on handling them himself, instead of letting us come with him,” Daya added.

Mefune nodded. “And the only reason why I went along with it was because I didn’t want to risk blowing our cover. But I think the time for doing this carefully has passed. If we bring back more for him, then one of us could follow him to the stash. Later, we go back and destroy them before he plans to attack the city.”

“That could work…” Altaira muttered.

“But he’ll know someone’s working against him afterwards,” Daya pointed out. “There’s no way they won’t notice something like that, and if any of us get hurt, or they see us out when it happens, it’ll be hard to convince him we weren’t involved.”

Mefune nodded in reluctant agreement. “He’ll know someone betrayed him, but if we’re careful and make sure we all have good stories, we may be able to avoid his attention for a little while.” He let out a small sigh. “I knew it would come to this eventually. We wouldn’t be able to fight Samar quietly forever. I’ll do what is necessary to protect us all from whatever he does in retaliation, but I’m not about to stop just because the risk to myself is greater.”

“Same,” Altaira stated softly. Daya glanced to her, looking worried. Meeting her friend’s gaze, Altaira added, “Too many people will die if we give up now, between Samar’s recklessness and the war that would no doubt start as a result. I can’t stand by and let that happen.”

Daya sighed. “Alright. If you’re sure, then…I’ll help.”

“And if I can help in some way without directly confronting Samar, then count me in,” Garrett added.

“It’s getting to the point now it’s all or nothing, Garrett,” Mefune pointed out. “When I said I’d do what was necessary to protect us from Samar, that meant you too. We could really use you help.”

Garrett let out a heavy sigh. “Fine. What do you need me to do?”

Altaira couldn’t resist a triumphant smile. Finally, it seemed they had won him over. Mefune, however, was all business, as he began delving out orders. “I need to know who’s actually loyal to Samar and who isn’t. I get the feeling some of the council may be pretending to keep out of trouble, like we are, but it’s hard to tell. If this comes to some sort of a fight, I want to be ready.”

Garrett nodded. “I can handle that.”

“And I’ll bring back some Tarapor for Samar,” Mefune decided. “Daya and Altaira, you can follow Samar to where he’s keeping them when I get back.”

“Wait, you want to go after the Tarapor alone?” Garrett wondered, one eyebrow raised in surprise.

“You’re good, but not that good,” Altaira added. “We barely all made it back in one piece last time.”

“You doubt me?” Mefune wondered with a hint of a smile, clearly not taking it as seriously as the others.

“Only your sanity right now,” she grumbled. When he didn’t seem ready to let it go, she added, “At least let me come with you; we have a better chance of surviving together.”

He considered it a moment. “I guess Daya can follow him alone. I wanted the two of you together just in case you got caught; less of a chance the fight could go bad.”

“I think you have more to worry about fighting the Tarapor,” Daya stated. “I’ll be fine on my own. Let Altaira go with you.”

Mefune glanced to Daya, clearly not satisfied with the idea, but then he gave a short nod, and turned back to Altaira. “Fine. Can you be ready to leave in an hour?”

“You want to leave today? It’s almost four,” Garrett pointed out.

“We don’t have time to wait for better circumstances,” Mefune confirmed with a nod.

“I’ll pack my things,” Altaira agreed.

“Let me know when you get back,” Daya stated.

* * *

An hour or so later, the two started into the forest once again. “So where do you plan to find the Tarapor this time? Same place as usual?” Altaira wondered as they reached the bottom of the hill leading to headquarters’ entrance and started into the trees.

Mefune shook his head. “Let’s go to the northern lakeshore this time.”

Altaira paused. “Wait, that’s where you said it was pretty heavily infested. We specifically chose not to go there.”

“Yeah, but we don’t have the time for a two-day hike to the western shore like usual. I doubt Samar will actually wait a full week. He could attack tomorrow for all we know,” Mefune pointed out.

“True,” Altaira muttered. “But it’s not going to do anyone any good if we get ourselves killed in the process.”

“I’m hoping to find some stragglers far enough south we can stay away from the worst of it. I’ve been in that area before; it isn’t too bad, if you’re on your guard. Besides, if we’re quick, we might even make it back tonight.”

Altaira let out a heavy sigh. “I hope this goes well. And you wanted to do this alone.”

Mefune allowed a small smirk. “I guess Creta wore off on me a bit.”

Their conversation lulled to a halt as they traveled deeper into the forest. Breaking from the familiar paths the patrols usually took, they started north. The trees were dense in that area, blocking almost all of the sky from view. They traveled in silence, as if unwilling to shatter the fragile peace around them. It was almost unnerving to Altaira just how quiet it was. Usually there were birds or other wildlife, but she couldn’t see or hear any.

When the trees parted slightly and a somewhat familiar river came into sight, Altaira realized how far they had come. _Maybe we will manage to find a Tarapor and make it back before dark_ , she mused, but part of her still seriously doubted it. They would most likely end up finding shelter for the night somewhere in the forest, find a Tarapor in the early morning hours tomorrow, and then make it back before noon. Still, it would be faster than travelling all the way out to the western shore.

Reaching the riverbank, they carefully crossed over a makeshift bridge, which was really nothing more than a few fallen logs. The river below them was shallow and clear, passing quickly through much wider, deep banks. Altaira had seen this form of erosion before and knew the banks had formed when the river would swell from spring runoff and heavy storms.

Time passed slowly. They continued on a mostly northern trajectory, passing through familiar and unfamiliar areas of the forest. Eventually, Altaira found herself in an area she had never traversed before. In the distance, she caught glimpses of the mountains’ snowy peaks above the tree line, and the sun sometimes caught the surface of the lake and shone through the trees to her right. Eventually it too fell away, leaving her with no familiar landmarks other than the distant mountains. The sun continued to sink towards the horizon, and under the trees, it seemed to grow darker much faster.

As the trees thinned again, Altaira noticed the sky was now overcast, and a constant breeze had picked up, gusting at times enough to worry Altaira. “I don’t like the change in weather,” she commented, knowing how dangerous it could be to be caught out in the forest when the weather grew nasty. The patrols planned for it and had plenty of places to go for shelter along their routes, but out here, things were much less organized. It would be easy to get lost in an unfamiliar location.

“Hmm,” Mefune muttered, his gaze narrowing as he glanced up between the swaying pines. “I don’t like it either. But we have to keep moving forward at this point; with how fast it’s rolling in, there’s no way we’ll make it back to base before it breaks, and I don’t want to have to deal with the river.”

“Where do we go then?” Altaira wondered.

Mefune glanced around the forest, taking in his surroundings in silence for a moment, making Altaira a bit worried. “There…should be places up ahead we can take shelter in.”

“Are you sure?” Altaira asked.

“Not entirely,” he admitted. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in this part of the forest. But if I’m remembering right, there’s a series of caves behind a waterfall near the lake that should be just northeast of us.”

Altaira bit her lip. “Are you sure we shouldn’t just head back? I’d hate to be stumbling around in the storm looking for a cave that’s not there.”

As Mefune considered it, Altaira heard the last rumblings of distant thunder. He glanced in the direction of the sound and then stated, “If we’re going to try, we go now.” Altaira didn’t like the urgent tone of his voice. She simply nodded, and they started back the way they had come simultaneously.

Before they had made it far, it began to rain, and the thunder seemed closer now. Altaira was both grateful and fearful of the tree cover above them; it protected her a bit from the rain, but she also knew with thunder came lightning, and being near trees was not an ideal place to be.

They scaled down a gentle slope as another clap of thunder resonated through the forest. The wind howled through the branches above, and the rain grew increasingly more intense. _Spring storms like these can get real nasty,_ Altaira remembered. Her poncho was soaked through, and the growing darkness made it difficult to see; night was coming, and the thick tree cover and dark clouds made it seem like midnight. She couldn’t help but silently marvel at how quickly the storm had blown in and hoped it wouldn’t get any worse, despite knowing it very well had the potential to.

With the thunder now so loud it seemed to shake the ground around Altaira, sending shivers of fear down her spine every time, they finally neared where she remembered the river had been.

Mefune suddenly stopped in front of her, causing Altaira to stumble to a halt behind him just in time to prevent herself from running into him. “What?” she began as she stepped up next to him. Before he could answer, lightning eerily lit up her surroundings and for the first time, she noticed the shallow water rushing past her boots. She stared at in shock. The original banks weren’t for another few feet. The storm had already forced the water well beyond it, and she guessed it would only get worse the longer it rained.

“We can’t cross. Who knows how fast the current is at the center, or how deep?” Mefune stated grimly.

Altaira cursed their bad luck under her breath, her hands on her hips. “Now what?” she asked.

Mefune simply turned around. If he had said anything, it was lost to Altaira in another deafening clap of thunder. As she followed him back through the trees, she distracted herself from her quickly growing fear by counting the seconds between the lightning flashes and the thunderclaps. But that did little to calm her nerves; she quickly realized the storm was steadily moving closer.

The wind intensified as they continued, the rain forced sideways in its path, pelting Altaira in the face. It became impossible to see anything other than Mefune’s form before her, like a living shadow in the darkness. She figured in normal circumstances her eyes would have somewhat adjusted to the lack of light, but the lightning flashed frequently enough to disorient her, like someone flicking on a flashlight occasionally in a dark room. She stumbled along behind Mefune, focusing on keeping her feet moving forward and herself from panicking. She was quickly realizing another issue with the encroaching night—the dropping temperatures were quickly made unbearable by how wet she was. _I’ll take Tarapor over this any day,_ she grumbled inwardly. _Give me a whole hoard of them, right now. At least that I can fight._

Mefune made his way around the base of an ancient, obviously dead pine, just as another gust ripped past. Altaira heard the snapping of wood and paused in her tracks, fear making her heart skip a beat. She had no idea how close she was to the tree without the lightning to illuminate her surroundings, but she remembered how precarious it had looked when she had first glimpsed it.

Another gust ripped past, followed by more snapping. The next couple seconds passed almost as if she was watching it happen to someone else, everything moving painfully slow. Lightning flashed again, allowing Altaira a brief glimpse of the falling tree moving towards her. Eyes widening, she burst into action, hoping to get out of its path before the tree landed, but she only had a general idea of what direction it was falling in.

When the branch crashed into her, she was launched sideways, her shoulder smashing painfully into the ground. A crash loud enough to compete with the thunder echoed behind her, and then excruciating pain shot through her leg. She cried out, but it took her ears a moment to register she was making any sound. All she could hear was the pounding of her own heart.

Then there was a hand on her arm. “Altaira!” Mefune cried, making her realize he had knelt beside her. Lightning flashed again, and Altaira caught a blurred glimpse of his concerned gaze. In the new lighting, his gaze snapped to a dark form near Altaira, fear in his eyes.

Then he disappeared into the blackness again, and Altaira almost gave in to the pain, fighting to stay conscious. She could hear him struggling with something heavy, and then he cursed quietly. She could feel the weight on her now and realized part of the tree must have pinned her. Then, she saw a silver flash before the pain suddenly lessened and the weight lifted away.

He appeared at her side again. “I’m going to have to…” he started, but part of his words were lost to her—whether from thunder or her blacking out, she wasn’t sure. “Altaira?”

“I can’t hear you. Just get us out of here,” she managed through gritted teeth.

He nodded, and she only briefly caught it in the haunting glow of more lightning. The ground fell away moments later as he pulled her into his arms and lifted her up. She clung to him, quickly growing disoriented. The movement jarred her injuries, and she let out another yelp, tensing as she rode through the pain.

He started into the forest, moving as quickly and carefully as he could. She slipped in and out of awareness as the pain threatened to overwhelm her over the next moments—she had no idea how long it was, but it felt like an eternity.

When the rain stopped, she glanced up but could see only darkness, and the echoing thunder told her she was definitely still in the storm. “We made it,” Mefune sighed in relief. He carefully set her down. As if knowing she was safe was finally enough to allow her to give in to the blackness, she found it impossible to fight it anymore. Deciding its emptiness was better than the painful world she existed in now, Altaira welcomed it as she passed out.

* * *

_** Mefune ** _

When Altaira lost consciousness, Mefune couldn’t help but wish he could sleep as well but knew there was still a lot that needed to be done before he could allow himself to rest. First, he checked to make sure she was able to breathe easily, and that her heart rate seemed steady. When he noticed she was very cold to the touch, he quickly lit a small fire with some dried leaves and twigs he found on the cave floor.

In the craziness of the storm, it had been hard to see the extent of the injuries she had suffered, but now it was a bit easier under the light of his fire. The shoulder she had landed on had a deep gash that soaked her poncho and sleeve in blood, and there were several other small scrapes and bruises covering her arm and one side of her face. By far the worst of her injuries was definitely her leg. The bone in her shin had snapped in two places, the top break protruding through her skin a few inches above the rim of her boot. The wound was bleeding horribly, making him wonder if she had passed out due to a loss of blood. He quickly realized how dangerous it was to have moved her. At this point, he could only hope he hadn’t made it worse.

His lips pressed into a thin line as he considered his options. Setting his sword aside, he pulled his bag off his shoulder and rummaged through it for a moment, assessing his supplies. It was a nasty break, and it had been a while since had first learned how to treat it. His mind raced as he tried to remember what he needed to do, and in what order. Setting the leg right was crucial for her survival, and for her future use of the limb. He was no Medic. His skills were rudimentary, nothing compared to his fallen mentor, making him wish he was still around. _There’s no way I’ll do this right without magic,_ he thought.

Part of him reluctantly admitted there was another option. There were dangers to what he was considering, and he had promised himself he would never venture down that path again. Not since the accident with Creta. But he was desperate. His eyes squeezed shut for a second, his hands clenching into fists, torn between helping Altaira and staying away from his troubled past.

In the darkness, he could almost imagine Creta hovering behind him as he often had, the subject of his pestering before Mefune—usually an injured animal, something the old Medic had stumbled across and had determined to use as a teaching moment.

_“Your doubt is the only thing holding you back, Mefune. You can do this,” Creta told him, his hands resting behind his back, a calm expression on his face._

_“I can’t,” Mefune denied. The memory of his mistake was way to fresh on his mind._

_Creta knelt next to him, resting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. He reluctantly looked up to the older man, his gaze full of the torment he felt inside. “I know you’re scared. But I don’t hold what happened against you. I knew the risks of taking you as my apprentice. I want you to realize your past doesn’t have to control you.”_

The memory faded as Mefune opened his eyes again, his gaze resting on Altaira. He hadn’t succeeded then, refusing to act on what Creta was telling him. From that moment on, the old Medic had always seemed lightly disappointed with him.

But that was a long time ago. Though Mefune was still scared, he had learned to work around that fear. There was something stronger urging him on now as he thought of Altaira.

_Just this once,_ he told himself as thin wisps of silver light appeared around his hands and he got to work.

* * *

_** Altaira ** _

Altaira stirred, disoriented as she took in her unfamiliar surroundings; she seemed to be in some sort of cave, a blanket thrown over her, and the remnants of a campfire smoldered nearby. The air smelt of damp earth and wood smoke, irritating her nose enough to make her sneeze—which she quickly wished hadn’t happened. Her whole body ached, and the sneeze made it spike to an almost unbearable throb. Her left shoulder and right leg were the worst.

When it settled to a more bearable level, she searched for Mefune, remembering he had been with her the last time she had been conscious. “What happened?” she managed, swallowing around her parched throat.

“You passed out,” Mefune supplied as her gaze finally found him.

“Passed out…why?” she asked, bewildered. Then memories from her last conscious moments came crashing back, and she blinked and pushed the blanket away, wanting to take stock of her injuries. She glanced to her leg first, remembering the pain, and immediatelynoticed the bandaging that covered most of her shin from just below her knee. Her shawl was gone, revealing her shoulder was wrapped in a similar fashion.

“That’s why,” Mefune muttered, sounding almost sarcastic. Turning back to him, she decided exhausted was more the word for it. He looked surprisingly ruffled, his complexion pale.

“I remember now,” she muttered. “How bad are they?”

Mefune hesitated a brief moment and then shrugged. “Not as bad as they look. Mostly just surface wounds and bad bruising. I thought your leg might have been broken, but it was just a pretty deep cut. You’ll have to be careful with it, but it shouldn’t take long to heal. Your shoulder’s in similar condition, but not quite as bad.”

She nodded, taking in the information. It surprised her; she would have guessed her injuries were worse, judging by the amount of pain she had been in the night before.

Glancing at the opening of the small cave behind Mefune, she noticed there was hardly any trace of the storm except for the large puddles in random places. “How long was I asleep?”

Mefune reached for his bag and began searching for something inside as he replied, “A day. Hungry?” He produced a small wrapped package and offered it to her.

“Yeah,” she muttered as she accepted it, recognizing one of the pre-bundled ration packs all the members of the Brotherhood carried with them. They were simple palm-sized slightly lumpy brown squares, with an almost doughy texture and a shelf life of about a thousand years. Packed with nutrients, one could survive on them alone for a long time. Despite how unpleasant they looked, they tasted decent, and Altaira was so famished she felt she could eat a hundred of them.

After swallowing the square, she brushed her hands clean and leaned back against the cave wall carefully. Glancing up, she studied the little space; it was made from an ancient tree leaning against a larger boulder, thick moss and tangled roots creating a roof of sorts. It wasn’t waterproof, leaving a good portion of the interior still slightly damp from the rain, but the area around Altaira and the fire’s remains was kept dry by the thick tree trunk. She noticed her shawl hanging from a tree branch, still slightly damp, one side bearing a new stain probably from her shoulder. _Man, another one ruined,_ she thought, remembering the jacket that had been destroyed by the Tarapor that had bit her.

Mefune held out a closed fist and her canteen. “Here, these will help with the pain a bit. I don’t have much, so only take what you need.”

Trying not to act too obviously relieved, Altaira accepted the canteen and allowed Mefune to drop a couple pills into her open palm. After swallowing them, she commented, “You literally have everything in that bag, don’t you?”

Mefune managed a half-smile, bringing some light back to his tired expression. “It pays to be prepared.”

“Yeah, and I keep being the benefit of it,” she pointed out. “Thanks for last night.” He dismissed it with a small shrug, glancing down at his hands. She smiled slightly, bemused by his reaction. “No, seriously. You saved my life. Thank you.”

“It was the right thing to do. I couldn’t leave you there.” Then, after a brief pause, he attempted to change the subject by asking, “How are you feeling? Are you cold? I could start another fire.”

She smiled slightly, allowing him to move on. “No, I think I’m okay right now.”

“Alright. Keep me updated, okay?”

She nodded, shifting slightly to pull the blanket back over her—which she realized was actually Mefune’s jacket. They hadn’t come with supplies for more than a night’s stay in the woods, and as she glanced around, she realized her pack was missing, meaning half their supplies were as well. She frowned slightly, realizing that could be problematic.

“So if the bridge is washed out, will we be able to cross the river?” she wondered.

Mefune frowned slightly. “Probably not. I haven’t seen the river yet, but it’s most likely still too deep and moving too fast for us to cross any time soon.”

Altaira sighed. She had been expecting this, but still didn’t like hearing it. “So how do we get back?”

“We can wrap around the lake, which will take a couple weeks,” Mefune told her, sounding as if he didn’t like that idea but was reluctant to suggest the other.

“We can’t afford a couple weeks. We only have a few days before Samar moves against the Auares,” she reminded him. “There has to be another option.”

Mefune sighed. “We…could move towards the mountains and cross where it’s shallower upstream.” He paused, and then added, “But that would take us directly through the thick of the Tarapor hives.”

Altaira slumped, shaking her head slightly. “And I’m in no condition to fight on that level,” she muttered, realizing their predicament.

“You…might be surprised,” Mefune mused, eyeing her carefully. “The leg will hold your weight as long as you’re careful, and if I’m not mistaken your injured shoulder isn’t your dominant hand, so you could still hold your sword without too much trouble.”

Altaira raised an eyebrow, considering him for a moment. “You want to take the second option.”

“ _Want_ is a bit strong,” he sighed. “Like you said, we don’t have time for the first. I don’t like the odds any better than you do, but I’m not sure we have any other choice.”

Altaira’s lips pressed into a thin line as she debated how to answer. It seemed ridiculous to even consider stepping into such a place, even with her at full health, and yet, he seemed set on the idea. She couldn’t help but feel a bit miffed her health seemed of little concern.

“Give me a day, then, to rest and get used to my injuries,” she requested after a moment, her tone a little sharper than she meant it.

He nodded, staying silent. After a long moment, he glanced up and met her gaze, looking as if he wanted to say something, and then hesitated. “What?” she wondered.

He seemed to debate what he wanted to say for a moment more before finally telling her, “I don’t want you to think I made the decision lightly.”

“I don’t,” Altaira said in an attempt to reassure him, but she was amazed by how well he had read her.

“You do,” he insisted. “Why?” his voice was still soft, but she squirmed under his piercing gaze. She couldn’t help but remember how he had reacted in a similar way to Garrett admitting his involvement with Creta’s death, making her nervous. She wasn’t sure if he was angry, or what, and not knowing did not help.

She sighed. “I guess…I just…” she stammered, “I just worry I won’t be able to keep up with you, and this is going to be dangerous. I hope you haven’t misplaced your trust.”

“I haven’t,” he stated, confident. “You’re a better fighter than you give yourself credit for.”

She shook her head slightly. “That’s just it—I know I can fight. But I’m injured. Badly. And we’re debating walking into the most Tarapor infested place in probably the entire world. I don’t think I’m up for that right now.”

“Then what do you suggest we do?” he questioned, his frustration making his careful control slip slightly. “I’ve been debating this constantly while you’ve been resting. I know you’re in no condition to fight, but people will die if we don’t make it back in time. A lot of people. Garrett hardly wants to help, and I doubt Daya will act alone. What is she supposed to do? At best she could warn the Auraes but that won’t stop the war. I don’t like the odds of what we’re going up against any better than you do, but I don’t see another option.”

“I know,” Altaira huffed, crossing her arms against her chest. She hated admitting he was right, but it still didn’t seem like the smartest idea. Then she paused, another possible solution coming to mind. “You could go back alone. You’d make it.”

He raised one eyebrow in question. “What, and leave you alone with hardly any supplies and surrounded by Tarapor?” he questioned, shaking his head. “This area’s crawling with them. They’ve been trying to swarm the cave since we got here. Our odds of survival are much higher if we stick together.”

“I’ll just slow you down and make you feel like you have to protect me. It would be easy for you to make it back in time to stop Samar if you went alone,” Altaira pressed, trying to convince him he would be better off on his own.

Looking a bit surprised, he inquired, “Do you really think my only interest in your wellbeing is because of this whole scheme we’re caught in?”

This surprised Altaira, making her realize that was exactly what her words implied. It hadn’t been her intention, but she knew she had thought similar things of him in the past, giving her words more validation than she had meant them to have.

_But why do I think that?_ she asked herself. _He’s only ever done things to show me he’s not that type of person._ Her whole reasoning was based on the reputation he somehow had, and the few moments where she had glimpsed a surprising darkness to him. But she was beginning to realize she couldn’t think of a single incident that validated the rumors that circled about him, and what she had glimpsed seemed only like a shadow, not something she needed to be afraid of. Definitely not something to judge his entire character off of.

Realizing she had never replied, she blinked and quickly stated, “No, of course not.”

“You do,” he pressed, and she realized she had hesitated way too long. She met his gaze, wondering if she had offended him, but his expression remained an unreadable mask.

“That’s not what I meant,” she said with a sigh. She shook her head, feeling heat rise to her cheeks with embarrassment. Now that she had confronted her own thought process, she realized just how ridiculous it was to think he’d be willing to abandon her. And she found herself desperately wanting him to know she didn’t actually believe he was that horrible of a person. Not anymore, at least.

She paused a moment to gather her thoughts, and then began by saying, “Honestly, sometimes I’ve wondered. There’s just…something about you—maybe in your demeanor, or the way you carry yourself, I’m not sure, but it’s intimidating. It makes believing the rumors about you easy. I guess I just fell into the trap of expecting the worst of you, just like everyone else did. But you’ve proven you’re better than we—I give you credit for. I’m wrong to judge, and I’m sorry.”

He held her gaze for a long moment, silently appraising her words. She squirmed slightly, hoping he realized she meant what she said. She didn’t want to make an enemy of him, for multiple reasons, but what seemed most important in that moment was making sure he didn’t hate her for her cruel judgement. What an odd turn of events, it was.

Then he smiled slightly, his gaze flicking down. “It’s funny how often I get that. I’ve always wondered what I did to start it. I promise I don’t mean to act that way.”

“I’m realizing that now,” she stated. “If you really were like that, you wouldn’t still be here. You wouldn’t have pulled me out of that storm. You wouldn’t have cared if the Auraes died in Samar’s schemes. So…yeah. Clearly you’re a lot better person than I thought.”

She bit her lip as she shifted uncomfortably, suddenly unsure of where she was going with her comment. It amazed her how quickly she had gone from accusing him to defending him, but it felt right. Still, she hadn’t expected the amount of emotion behind her words; she was truly grateful for his help, touched by it more than she had first realized.

He seemed just as surprised by her comment as she was, but then he slowly smiled. She realized then it was probably the first time she had really seen him smile openly, enough to allow it to reach his eyes. She found herself smiling to, warmed by how pleased he seemed.There was just a hint of uncertainty, as if her gratitude was unexpected and something he experienced infrequently, but it was clearly a welcome surprise. _Maybe people need to tell him_ that _more often_ , she thought. Suddenly she found herself considering the possibility of playing that role, just to allow him to know that she at least thought of him as a good person.

Suddenly Mefune turned to the entrance of the cave, his gaze locked on to something Altaira couldn’t see. “What?” she asked, surprised by the sudden switch in his demeanor.

“Tarapor.” He reached for his sword resting against his leg as he stood in one fluid motion. The sword split into two with a quick twist, and then he waited, watching the forest in silence.

Altaira shifted, debating trying to help, but the minute she tried to put any weight on her arm to push herself to her feet she realized it wouldn’t go over well. As she watched, a figure materialized out of the underbrush. Just as it crossed the threshold of the cave entrance, Mefune ended its life. The second reacted quickly, trying to catch him off guard, but he was more than ready for the creature; it died just as quickly as the first. He watched the forest for a moment more, but then seemed to sense the danger was gone.

As he turned back to her and sheathed his sword, Altaira sighed in relief, allowing herself to relax against the cave wall again. “How did you know they were there? I couldn’t even see them,” she wondered.

He smirked slightly. “Guess I’m just that good,” he joked, avoiding her question as he reclaimed his spot near the remnants of the fire between them.

She laughed at his sarcasm, surprised by it again. “Well, I hope whatever ability it is that grants you this foresight remains. It’ll make being stuck out here a lot easier.” 

His smirk only grew. “See, it is good having me around.”

“I guess,” she readily agreed, realizing how much she was glad he was there. As much as she dreaded the coming days, suddenly part of her was grateful that of all the people she could have been stranded with, she was lucky enough that it was him.


	16. Hunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Altaira and Mefune try to make their way home.

** Chapter Sixteen **

** Hunted **

_** Mefune ** _

They passed the afternoon with small talk, interrupted only by the occasional Tarapor that wandered their way. As night approached, Altaira eventually dozed again. But Mefune found himself too restless to sleep, just as he had been the night before. Between the mad dash through the storm, trying to keep Altaira alive, the constant threat of the Tarapor, and worrying over a solution to Samar, he couldn’t get himself to stop thinking long enough to do much more than doze.

He wasn’t sure they would survive the next few days. Not with Altaira in the condition she was. That was the biggest reason he couldn’t rest, because he found himself stuck on the same debate he had been on the night of the storm. There was more he could do for her, but if he healed the wounds any farther than he had, she would notice. There was no way he could explain away them magically healing.

His original plan was to let them finish healing on their own. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized she wouldn’t have the strength to fight the number of Tarapor they were about to face. He had seen her struggling to get to her feet on several occasionsthroughout the day, and it made him realize just how vulnerable she was. He couldn’t condemn her like that just to keep his secret safe.

The problem was, he wasn’t sure he trusted her on that level. It wasn’t anything she had done, he was just incredibly slow to trust. And there were reasons, more than he would ever like to explain, why he never used his aura. _But if we’re going to make it back, I just might have to trust her with this,_ he thought, not for the first time.

Debating it endlessly would get him nowhere. Finally, he let out a dejected sigh, throwing caution to the wind as he moved to her side. He brought his aura to light around him again and got to work.

* * *

_** Altaira ** _

Soon after Altaira woke the next morning, Mefune slipped off to take a look at theriver and decide if it was crossable. After forcing down another ration pack for breakfast, she decided to test her ability to walk. She had asked for a day to allow her wounds time to heal, but she found she was feeling better that morning. The sooner they could get going, the better.

Shifting slightly, she tried moving her leg first. It was stiff and achy, but not nearly as painful as the night before. Rotating her shoulder, she found it in similar condition. _Odd,_ she thought, her brow furrowing in confusion. Just the night before, she hadn’t been able to move either limb without a terrible amount of pain.

Unable to entirely believer her luck, she cautiously climbed to her feet. Shuffling to the cave entrance, she stretched and worked the kinks out, amazed. _This shouldn’t be possible_ , she thought.

Mefune appeared from the forest into the small clearing near the cave. Noticing her standing in the entrance of their little shelter, he called, “I’m surprised you’re up.”

As he reached her, she gave him a flabbergasted shrug. “They hardly hurt. I have no idea what happened overnight, but it’s like they’ve had a whole week to heal.”

His eyes widened slightly in surprise. “That’s amazing,” he congratulated.

Something about his tone of voice made her wonder if her announcement was all that much of a surprise to him. Fixing him with a pointed look, she asked, “You didn’t have something to do with this, did you?”

He let out an amused huff. “Me? I’m no miracle worker. All I did was bandage them and keep you alive.”

“Yeah but they’re suddenly healed. You’re the only person around,” she pressed. “What did you do?”

He seemed to search for an excuse, but eventually shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket and glanced down at the ground. “There’s…a reason Creta wanted me to be his apprentice,” he muttered softly.

It took her a minute to figure out his meaning, but finally she realized the one connection between Creta and the current conversation. Creta had been a Medic. Medics could heal wounds quickly, like hers had. The only reason she could see why Creta would have specifically requested to train anyone was if he intended to pass down those skills. And by the condition of her injuries, she was beginning to think he had.

“But…” she muttered, her brow furrowing in confusion. “I didn’t know you had an aura.”

“Nobody but Creta knew,” he admitted, confirming Altaira’s suspicions despite how his expression made her feel he would have rather left her guessing.

“Why don’t you ever use it?”

He shifted slightly, and by the way he wouldn’t meet her gaze and seemed almost tense, she could tell this wasn’t a topic he liked to visit often. “I do for little things, sometimes…” He sighed, searching for words. “There was an accident, a long time ago. I…haven’t entirely forgiven myself for it.”

“Oh,” she stated, still bewildered. What could have happened that would warrant never using his aura again, to the point literally nobody knew he even had one? From what she knew about those with auras, using said aura was as instinctual as breathing. It would take a lot to change that.

As if sensing her need for more information, he added, “Creta nearly died. It took a week for him to recover, and…he was never the same after. The whole thing was my fault. He never blamed me, but…he never really forgot, either, and neither could I.”

“Ah,” Altaira managed. She wasn’t sure what else to say. _I guess if something like that would have happened to me and my mentor, I would be reluctant too,_ she admitted to herself. “Well, I’m glad he taught you. This will make things a lot easier.”

“That’s why I used it now, even though I honestly would have preferred to avoid it,” he told her.

“I’m guessing that means you would rather me not tell anyone about it,” she assumed.

He nodded. “I know it’s foolish to hold what happened against myself for so long, but…I need to allow myself to deal with it my way. If everyone knew, they would expect me to use it.”

That she could agree with. Their need for Medics willing to assist the Brotherhood was always high, considering the danger they faced on a regular basis. But she would respect his wishes—she owed him that.

“Hey, I get it. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

“Thank you,” he stated, so softly Altaira almost didn’t hear him.

“You’re welcome,” she told him with a smile. “Now. I’m thinking we don’t need to wait any longer. We should start back.”

“If you’re sure you’re ready.”

“As ready as I’ll ever be. How does the river look?”

He sighed, glancing over his shoulder. “It’s slowed down a bit, but it’s still pretty flooded. It’s definitely not safe to cross there.”

She nodded, disappointed, but not surprised. “Well, here’s to hoping we’ll find a place to cross before we reach the worst of the Tarapor.”

“Yeah,” he agreed with a small, mirthless smile, before he began to gather his things. Altaira followed suit, though without her backpack, there wasn’t much for her to take. Part of her was a bit grateful she didn’t have the extra weight to cary. As much as she trusted Mefune had healed her wounds well enough, she didn’t want to push her luck.

Soon they were heading out into the forest again. They stayed near the river as best they could, searching for a way across, but at times it dropped below them in steep ravines, or the landscape forced them away from it for a while. After walking for a few hours, it quickly became obvious they wouldn’t find a crossing as quickly as they had both hoped.

They walked in silence, Altaira glancing over the forest, wondering how long it would take before they started encountering Tarapor. She couldn’t help but wonder just how many they would have to deal with before the whole escapade was over. The more she thought of it, the darker her imagination became, until she had nearly freaked herself out with haunting images of her and Mefune falling to massive swarms of Tarapor.

Deciding she needed to change her train of thought before she lost her courage, Altaira searched for something to talk about. Her mind strayed back to their conversation from that morning as her gaze found Mefune a few steps ahead of her. She couldn’t help but reflect on all of her memories of him, wondering if anything would be different, now that she knew he had an aura.

Quickly, one thought came to mind that sparked her curiosity. If he had a fully functional aura, why choose to join the Brotherhood? Having an aura and carrying the weapons they did was dangerous—it was why the auraless were tasked to protect Verndale from the Tarapor in the first place. Why risk his life on a daily basis like that, when he didn’t have to? She had only ever heard of one other person that had made that decision, and that was Creta. And, just about everyone had agreed that despite how wise and kindhearted he was, he was also completely crazy.

She debated asking for a while, biting her lip as she did. She knew very well he was a extremely private person—moreso than she had ever guessed—and he didn’t like talking about his aura. Would he be annoyed if she asked?

_It’s probably a bad idea,_ she thought, trying to push away her curiosity. But with nothing to distract her, her mind dwelt on it incessantly. Eventually, she settled on bringing up a relatively safe, somewhat related topic, in hopes she could gauge how willing he was to talk about his past.

Catching up to him, she matched his pace, and then said, “Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if I hadn’t joined the Brotherhood.”

Mefune glanced her way, looking somewhat surprised by the sudden start to the conversation, but if he found it odd he didn’t say anything. Instead he replied, “It would be very different, that’s for sure. We at least wouldn’t be stuck in this situation.”

Altaira chuckled. “I guess not.” Her gaze turned far away as she reflected on that train of thought, and what her life would actually be like. “But you now what? I wouldn’t trade it. It gets hard, doing our job, and obviously sometimes life throws us into horrible situations. But I’m doing something good with my time. I’m protecting people. It gives me purpose.”

Mefune nodded. “Couldn’t have put it better myself. It’s why I’m trying so hard to save the Brotherhood from Samar’s schemes. Most of its members, they’re good people like you that are just trying to do their part to make life a little better for everyone. They don’t deserve to fall to his greed.”

“Exactly,” Altaira agreed. Then her head tilted to one side as she reflected on the past month and came to an interesting realization. “You know, if you hadn’t won that duel forever ago, I don’t think we’d be here either.”

“What do you mean?” he wondered, glancing at her.

“Well, if you hadn’t joined the council, Garrett wouldn’t have approached you. Samar’s schemes would have gone unnoticed until he attacked Verndale, and we would have had a war on our hands.”

He considered her words for a moment. “I guess you’re right. But if I had for some reason lost, you would be the one with the council seat, and I’m sure you would have figured Samar’s plans out.”

“I don’t know that I could have, not before it was too late.”

“You were already looking for evidence to take down your father’s murderers. It makes sense that would lead you to find out about Samar’s schemes, especially since there’s actually a connection between the two,” he insisted. Then he shrugged slightly. “Honestly if I had known why you wanted the council seat, I probably would have given it to you.”

She paused, caught off guard by this. “You would have just handed it over?” she questioned, the disbelief audible in her voice.

He stopped and turned to face her when he noticed she wasn’t keeping pace. “I only wanted it because Creta had promised it to me. Something of an inheritance of sorts, I guess. And I didn’t mind the idea of something new, of a challenge. But you wanted it for a legitimate reason—to prevent the wrongs your family suffered from happening again. If I had known, I wouldn’t have stood in your way.”

“Wow,” she muttered, not sure what else to say. She hadn’t ever heard of anyone amongst the Brotherhood so willingly giving up their power for someone else. It was something so selfless, so opposite of the person everyone saw him as, that it warmed her heart. “Thanks. For being willing to help, I mean,” she managed, struggling to express her gratitude properly. _How in the world did I manage to so completely misjudge him?_ She wondered.

He shrugged, looking slightly uncomfortable, as if he hadn’t expected such a reaction and was unsure what to do with it. Then, as if he had caught on to an idea, a hint of humor entered his expression. “Though, I don’t know if I could have thrown that duel. So, it might have been a moot point anyway,” he joked.

Altaira laughed, surprised by his sudden sarcasm. “Oh, I see how it is.”

“Yeah, still have to give you a reason to hate me,” he stated, as if it was the most important thing in the world.

“I don’t hate you!”

He raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?” he wondered, meeting her gaze.

“I don’t!” She pressed. “After all this, I couldn’t hate you even if I tried.”

His smirk faded to a genuine smile, and he glanced away, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Good,” he muttered, sounding surprisingly pleased.

Altaira brightened at the sight of his smile, all thoughts of their conversation gone. There was just something about that smile that made it impossible to think of anything else. It still wasn’t lost to her how rarely she saw it. She loved the way it chased away the shadows and made him seem so happy, just for a brief moment. Watching him, she found herself wanting to make him smile like that every day. She couldn’t exactly pinpoint the moment when she had started caring so much, but he had gone from one of the people she hated the most, to someone she genuinely cared for.

He started into the forest again while she was lost in thought, reminding her where she was and what they were doing. She shook her head, trying to process her little realization while keeping her mind in the game—now wasn’t the time to forget how dangerous her surroundings were.

But first, before she could move on, there was one more thing she had to do. Catching up to him, she told him, “I’m glad things went the way they did though.”

“Why?” he wondered.

“Because if it hadn’t, we would probably still be rivals. This whole thing gave us a chance to put our differences aside and work together. And I’m really glad it did,” she told him.

He considered it for a moment, and then nodded. “You and me both.”

* * *

By dusk, the pair had covered a lot of ground, but still hadn’t found a place they could safely cross the river. It rushed past them to their left, a constant flurry of water.

Mefune paused, sighing as he glanced around. “What is it?” Altaira asked.

“I would rather not be out at night,” he replied. “But I’m not sure where a good place to take shelter would be in this part of the woods.”

“Is there anywhere along here you think we’ll be able to cross?” she wondered, glancing at the river again.

He shrugged. “I think the mouth of the river is only a few miles from here. I was hoping it would slow down before then, but it doesn’t look like it’s going to any time soon.”

“So, what do we do?”

“There should be caves in that area we can take shelter in. The Tarapor don’t like water, so we should be safe.” He paused again. “It’s just getting there before they attack that’s the problem. I’ve already started to notice them stir.”

“Wait, you’ve seen them?” Altaira glanced around quickly, surprised and just a little worried she hadn’t noticed them.

“No, I can sense their auras. They’re moving this way,” he explained.

She blinked, realizing she hadn’t once considered his aura would give him that advantage. He smiled slightly, clearly amused. “How else do you think I always know when they’re approaching?”

“I guess that makes sense,” she mused. “Honestly I’m still getting used to knowing you have an aura.”

“Understandable,” he muttered.

They fell silent as they continued. Soon dusk turned to night, leaving Altaira on edge. Every little stir pulled at her attention, her eyes wide as she tried to keep track of her surroundings in the darkness. She was beginning to tire after a whole day’s trek through the forest, and she knew it was partly because she was still healing. But she wasn’t about to rest, not while they were so exposed.

After a moment more, Mefune paused. “They’re close,” he whispered.

Altaira immediately went for her sword. “Where are they coming from?”

“East,” Mefune replied. He turned towards the river that still ran to their left. “We need to get across or we’re going to get swarmed.”

Altaira bit her lip and turned to the river as well. “It still looks pretty deep here.”

He simply nodded and started towards the water. Getting as close as her dared, he continued along the river, searching for a spot they could cross. Remembering what he had said earlier, Altaira hoped their nearness to the water would keep the Tarapor away. It at least created a natural wall to one side so the beasts couldn’t surround them from all directions.

Altaira heard a distant howl, making her turn back towards the forest quickly. “Since when do Tarapor make noise like that?”

“Since the disease started infecting animals,” Mefune grumbled. “We need to hurry. I think they know we’re here.” He broke into a light jog, and Altaira followed suit, despite how her weary body protested.

They hadn’t made it far when Altaira heard noise approaching from behind. She turned, drawing her sword, just in time to see a darker shadow separate itself from the underbrush and launch at her. She easily sidestepped around the Tarapor and ended its life as it careened past. More Tarapor poured from the trees as Mefune returned to her side and joined in the fight. It was quickly apparent to Altaira that her injuries would have some effect on her abilities, but she ignored them. She couldn’t afford to favor them now.

Luckily, as it became clear the pair had the upper hand, the remaining Tarapor scattered into the forest. “They’ll be back, most likely in greater numbers,” Mefune muttered. “Let’s keep moving.”

He started back along the river, still searching for a way to cross, Altaira following. At times, she could hear beings following them through the darkness but couldn’t see them. Tense with the anticipation of another attack, she watched the forest, knowing Mefune was right—now that the Tarapor knew they were present, they wouldn’t give up on their prey.

Just as they had predicted, the Tarapor did come in random spurts as they continued up the river. The noise of the fights attracted more, and the larger the group became, the longer it remained before the pair managed to drive them off. Exhaustion was quickly setting in, leaving Altaira to wonder how much longer she could keep fighting.

“We’re almost to the river’s start. There’s a waterfall up ahead, and caves behind it. If we can make it there, we’ll survive,” Mefune told her.

She nodded, saving her breath for running. They sprinted through the forest between attacks, trying to get as far away from their enemy as they could.

But they kept coming, keeping pace with the pair easily, their enhanced agility hard to beat. The only thing that kept them away was the deadly metal of Mefune and Altaira’s swords, and even that fear wasn’t enough to drown out their desperate hunger for long.

As Altaira killed yet another creature and watched the rest scatter into the forest again, she suddenly reached her limit. She stumbled to a halt, her breath coming in gasps, her leg and shoulder throbbing as she allowed her sword to droop at her side.

Obviously noticing her fall behind, Mefune skidded to a stop and then doubled back. “You alright?”

“Just taking a break,” she managed. She lifted a hand to steady herself against the tree next to her but winced as she moved her bad shoulder. She glanced it, discovering the bandages were suspiciously dark. It was bleeding again. “Not good,” she muttered under her breath, frowning.

“What?”

“My shoulder’s bleeding again,” she told him softly, meeting his gaze. They both knew what an open wound mean.

“So that’s why they’re so persistent,” Mefune sighed, sounding weary and actually a bit afraid. He glanced over the forest behind him, searching for their enemy, and then took a couple steps back. “Come on, we have to get to the caves.”

“I need to catch my breath.” She wasn’t sure how she was even standing at this point, much less running through the forest.

“We’re close. We need to go now while we have the chance,” he urged, and she could hear the desperation in his voice. Knowing he wouldn’t force her onward unless he seriously thought there was a chance they wouldn’t make it if he didn’t, she gathered her waning strength and pushed away from the tree.

Suddenly she caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye and called out a warning. Mefune was already ready, and he met with the first Tarapor as it leapt from the trees.

As the Tarapor attacked and Altaira found herself once again fighting for her life, she felt a pang of fear as she realized she was slowing down, her exhaustion leading to mistakes that could very well lead to her death. Thankfully, Mefune seemed to pick up the slack, which she figured was the only reason she survived with every passing moment.

Suddenly there was a hole in the fighting. Mefune motioned her towards it. “Go, I’ll cover you,” he ordered.

Too tired to protest, Altaira forced herself to run, cutting down the few Tarapor that stood in her way. Mefune followed closely, making sure the beasts wouldn’t follow. They hurried through the forest, Altaira simply focusing on one thing; moving forward. It took all her willpower to continue to put weight on her bad leg.

The Tarapor fell back again, allowing Mefune to catch up to her. They continued to follow, not ready to give up yet, but reluctant to attack. Luckily, it seemed there was a chance they would make it; Altaira noticed the rush of water was growing louder, and a darker patch had risen up against the night sky above the tree line—cliffs.

“Will the Tarapor try to follow?” Altaira managed between breaths. Usually they wouldn’t, but she was worried the frenzy her wound had encouraged would be enough to drive them beyond their usual limits.

“They hate the water. It should be enough.” Soon enough, he veered away from the river a bit to a path that started up the cliff side at a surprisingly steep angle. It had obviously been cleared by man but was hidden well enough Altaira wouldn’t have found it if it weren’t for Mefune pointing it out.

The path wrapped around the cliffs, away from the waterfall, and continued to grow steeper until they were forced to climb. Altaira’s muscles burned and her limbs felt weak and rubbery as she pulled herself upward. She refused to look down, her heart racing with the fear of falling. When the cliff became more sheer, there were ropes embedded in the rock wall, giving her leverage. Relieved, she clung to them, feeling a bit more secure in her assent.

Finally, they reached a ledge about halfway up the cliffs. The waterfall rushed past them ahead, spraying the small space with a gentle mist. Mefune pulled himself up onto the ledge, and then turned and offered a hand to help her up. Once on the surface, she stumbled away from the edge and collapsed in a heap, trying to catch her breath. Her eyes squeezed shut, trying to fight the quickly growing headache. She was slightly dizzy too, making her wonder just how much blood she had lost.

When the world steadied again and the pounding in her head faded, she managed to open her eyes and glanced around. Mefune stood near the edge of the cliff, his sword still in his hand, his gaze on the ground below.

“They aren’t following,” he muttered, his shoulders slumping slightly in exhaustion as she sheathed his sword and stepped away from the edge. Then he turned to her, and his gaze immediately went to her wounded shoulder. “We need to take a look at that,” he muttered, kneeling next to her as he set his sword aside and pulled his bag off.

She nodded, too tired to reply. She rested her sword next to her and then carefully pulled her poncho over her head. The bandages encasing her shoulder were a deep scarlet now, but thankfully it hadn’t soaked through. Mefune handed her a roll of gauze and bandaging strips, requesting she hold them. She watched as he began removing the soaked bandages, working quickly as he frowned slightly. He sanitized the wound, clearing away the blood, and then his frown deepened when he was able to see it clearly.

“The stitches broke in a couple places. I’ll have to redo them,” he told her. She nodded, frowning. She hated stitches.

Oddly enough, he hesitated for a moment, but then sighed. A silver light surrounded his hands, brightening the ledge. As he muttered a few short phrases in Shidokian, the stitches faded, replaced by new sutures that closed the wound without a bit of pain. She watched, fascinated. It was one thing for him to tell her he had an aura. It was entirely another thing to see him use it. When the stitches were finished, his aura disappeared, and she found herself missing the gentle silver glow.

He carefully covered the wound with gauze soaked in a fragrant cream, and the last of the ache faded as it soaked into her skin. She let out a relieved sigh, some of the tension leaving her. She watched as he wrapped bandages around the wound carefully, the rhythmic pattern oddly soothing. He worked carefully, his hands steady despite the rush of the night, his touch light against her skin. She found herself unable to look away, amazed that the same man who had just spent all night fighting for his life could turn around and care for her so easily.

As he finished, he pressed the last piece down and taped it in place, and then rested his hand gently on her shoulder. “There,” he muttered. “It should be fine, I think.” To her surprise, his voice shook slightly. He looked up to her, his expression a mix of indecipherable emotions.

“Thank you,” she whispered, acknowledging he had once again saved her life. It seemed he was making a habit of it.

“Don’t thank me. I nearly got you killed,” he dismissed, shaking his head as his expression changed slightly. Suddenly she understood what she was seeing there; he was angry, but at who, she wasn’t sure.

“You saved my life. Again,” she corrected gently. Shifting towards him, she reached up and rested her hand against his, giving him a small, weary smile. “I don’t think I would have survived these last few days without you.”

His anger faded. “I had to keep you safe,” he admitted. As he spoke, he lifted his hand from her shoulder and took hers in his, running a thumb over her knuckles as if in an attempt to wipe away the dirt. It was such a simple gesture, but it sent shivers down her spine and made her heart skip a beat. She shifted closer, not sure what was urging her on but totally willing to embrace it.

But as she moved, she put pressure on her bad leg, sending a flair of pain up the limb. She gasped as she flinched back, but then immediately regretted it, sensing how quickly it shattered the moment.

“I should probably check that too,” Mefune muttered after a moment, his gaze on the ground. His tone was forcefully light but it couldn’t entirely hide the emotion from his words, making it impossible to simply accept his attempt to move on.

She sighed and muttered an allowing, “Yeah,” but her heart was still racing as she attempted to process what had just happened.

It didn’t take him long to check on the second injury. The stitches had held, and it was in much better condition than her shoulder, just sore. When he finished, Altaira muttered, “I’m going to try and sleep. Is the cave any drier?”

“Should be,” Mefune replied as he cleaned up his supplies.

She nodded and then attempted to stand, but found it nearly impossible without causing more pain than she had strength left to deal with. Her legs were weak and shaky, and she still felt a bit lightheaded. But asking for help seemed just as difficult, for some odd reason. She bit her lip, but eventually gathered her courage.

“Mefune?” she stated.

His gaze didn’t stray from his work, but he muttered a quick, “Hmm?”

“I hate to ask, but…I don’t think I can walk on my own right now,” she started, sounding sheepish even to herself.

He stood before she could even get to the question and moved to help her. “There’s no reason to be ashamed,” he muttered as he crouched next to her. “You’ve been through a lot. Most would have given up a long time ago.”

With his help, she made it to her feet, and then the pair limped into the cave. The entrance was damp like the ledge, but farther in, it was drier. Mefune lowered her to the ground near the cave wall, settling next to her. They both let out a weary sigh of exhaustion, and then Altaira chuckled. “I’m so tired I could sleep for ten years,” she grumbled.

“You and me both,” Mefune agreed. He shifted to rest against the cave wall but didn’t move away. Blaming her exhaustion, Altaira didn’t bother to either. She dozed quickly, surprisingly comfortable leaning against his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now that Mefune's aura is revealed, I must ask, did you guess? I dropped a few hints, but I wasn't putting much effort into it. There's more twists and turns to come, so keep reading for more!


	17. The Colonists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mariea, Bracken, and Mae discover the ruins of an Aurae colony
> 
> NOTE: If you read this chapter before 1/29/21, I've made edits. You'll have to read it again to allow future chapters to make sense. I apologize for that.

** Chapter Seventeen **

** The Colonists **

_** Mariea ** _

After a week of waiting for the needed funds from the Brotherhood for their random boat purchase, finding said boat, actually purchasing it, gathering supplies for an undetermined length of time, and then four days sailing, Mariea had never been happier to see a strip of land in her entire life. The small island from her vision appeared on the horizon not long after dinner, and they arrived at their destination just as the sun was setting over the island.

When they arrived, it took everything in Mariea to stay and help anchor the ship before exploring the island. Once finally on the beach, she took in her surroundings, hoping something would give her a clue as to what to do next. There was a thick stretch of soft white sand for a good many miles to her left and right, and before her, it gave away to a thick tropical jungle. Distant hills rose above the tree line, but for the most part, the island was low and flat, nothing like their mountainous island home, which was clearly much larger than this island.

But despite how beautiful the island was, she found it all a bit disappointing. She had been quietly hoping the solution to their problem would be her finding a thriving Aurae community who happened to have all the answers, but it was clear now nobody had been to the island in a long time.

“There’s still remnant spells here,” Bracken mused as he came to stand next to her. “They hide the island, but…they haven’t been maintained in a long time. They won’t last much longer.”

That Mariea could sense, and it was a bit of a relief. Solid proof that these colonists actually existed at some point made her feel a bit better. Maybe they had left behind something useful.

But then that made her realize whatever threat the dreams were trying to warn her about must be real as well, and that brought the heavy feeling of dread.

Pushing forward, she began searching, not sure what she was looking for, but desperate for answers. As she glanced around, she realized some of the planks of wood lining the shore were the remnants of old docks, and she started towards them, hoping from there she could locate where the settlement had been. She stood at the head of one, and then turned to look inland, scanning the tree line.

When the vision came to her again, the dock reformed behind her, followed quickly by an image of Elinore. She hurried down the dock to meet a group coming from the ship that was now anchored there, gripping her skirts in her hands to prevent her from tripping. Mariea recognized Rupert from her previous dream, and Elinore greeted him warmly, welcoming him home. Then they moved towards the town, and Mariea followed.

* * *

_** Elinore ** _

Elinore embraced her father as they met on the dock, feeling the sweet relief of being united with him again. “How was the trip?” she asked as they stepped apart. He offered her his arm, and she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, allowing him to lead her back towards town.

“Surprisingly, it was actually enjoyable this time,” he replied. “It helps that the journey was much shorter.”

“Yes, when mother and I received your message saying you would be back a whole week early, we were very surprised. What sped it up so much?” she wondered.

“Some of the Auraes found a way to best use Magics to speed up the traveling,” he informed her. Then he paused, his expression darkening slightly. “And…we heard about the sickness. We had to know if our families were alright. Messages can only do so much.”

Elinore frowned, sharing in his quiet sorrow for a moment. Living in such raw conditions, it wasn’t unexpected for disease to be a problem for the colonists, but the Medics kept everyone healthy and their little town was growing quickly, becoming more sophisticated every day.

But the disease that had caused the supply ship to return early was particularly difficult to beat. It was like nothing the Medics had seen before; it destroyed a person’s aura, chipping away at it one piece at a time, and with it, the Aurae’s life, until they finally died. It was a slow, painful process, and it seemed the Medics had no answers. Despite their efforts to hide how much of a problem it was, it only became more obvious the longer they dealt with it. And nobody missed when they started quarantining the sick. Since then, they had started being more open about what was happening.

Deciding she wanted to change the subject to something more positive, Elinore informed him, “Well, there’s a meeting on town square. The governor wants everyone to attend. You made it back just in time to join. We should head there.”

“Very well, let us be going,” he agreed. They passed into town, winding through the streets, the crowd around them slowly growing. The town center was surrounded in administration buildings and shops, which were all temporarily closing as their workers started for the city center. The dirt roads kicked up dust as the crowd pressed forward, and the bright sun beat down on them from above the buildings. It was always hot on the island—something Elinore was sure she would never come to like, but at least she was growing accustomed to it.

Just before they reached the square, Elinore noticed one of her oldest friends, Clare, and her younger sister, Shareece. Elinore waved and called to them. Clare turned and smiled, moving to walk with Elinore. “Good morning. What do you think this meeting is about?” She wondered.

“No idea,” Elinore said with a shake of her head. Shareece shrugged, and switched the subject to her new job with the town seamstress. She seemed excited, her pale eyes bright as she smiled, but as Elinore studied her, she couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under her eyes, and the pale tint to her skin. Usually, Shareece had more energy than this—every conversation with the girl was like trying to keep up with a racehorse, but this one lacked her usual vigor.

Deciding she had to ask, but with everything going on, she didn’t want to be too forward, Elinore wondered, “They’re not working you to death there, are you?”

Shareece paused, and then shook her head, managing a small laugh. “Oh, no. I’m just tired. I don’t sleep well in the summer; it’s just too hot,” she admitted. Then, something to her right caught her attention. She brightened, gave a rushed explanation that Elinore couldn’t understand, and then disappeared into the crowd.

Elinore gave Clare a questioning look, who shrugged, her expression an interesting mix of annoyance and amusement. That was more the Shareece they both knew. Then Clare sobered, looking a bit concerned as she stared after her sister. “I’m worried about her,” she admitted. “She hasn’t looked well for a bit now, and she only gets worse.”

“You don’t think…?” Elinore started carefully, but she found herself unable to finish her sentence.

Clare quickly caught on to her meeting, her gaze snapping to Elinore, a hint of fear there. She shook her head in denial. “It…It couldn’t be.” But then she bit her lip, her brow knitting in worry. “Could it? It’s so hard to know what’s going on.”

Elinore couldn’t find the words to reassure her—she knew as little as her friend did. Instead, she gave her a one-armed hug for a brief moment, the best she could do as they moved through the busy streets. _If Shareece does have it,_ she thought dejectedly, _we’ll know soon enough._ Quickly, she realized if Shareece had caught this mysterious new disease, that put Clare at risk, and her whole family—and possibly Elinore as well. Her fear quickly increased with that thought. So far she had avoided the sickness within her family and close friends, but a part of her began to wonder if she would be able to avoid it forever, considering how quickly it was spreading.

Soon they reached the town center, where everyone was gathering. It was packed, and as the remaining colonists filled the square, Elinore felt a little proud to realize just how much their numbers had swelled in the past few years of living on the island. So many Auraes were pouring to the island, drawn by the promise of safety it could offer. There, they could be comfortable in their own power with no one to hurt them for it.

The town’s mayor, Woodrow Carson, stepped forward and raised a hand, asking for silence. It took a long while for the crowd to quiet, but eventually it did. “I gather you here today to discuss the recent problem we have been facing; this new disease. It’s claiming more lives than I care to count, and we need to quickly find a cure before it becomes more of a problem. Several are ill now and need our help.” Gesturing to the man at his side, he told them, “This is Joseph Redro, our senior Medic. He will explain further what we need of you.”

Joseph stepped forward and began to explain, “My friends, we are close to finding a cure, but we need some of you to assist us. We are looking for young people, with fresh, lesser developed aruras. Those auras without specialties chosen are the most moldable and are needed for our experiments. We’re particularly looking at the age group between twelve and twenty-five. If you’re unsure whether or not your aura will work, we’ll be able to tell you quickly enough if it will. We also need assistance creating the cure, which will require more volunteers. You don’t need any medical training to help create the cure—we’ll find use for a anyone willing to help. If you’re willing to assist with either of these tasks, please gather here at the stage. The rest of the public can be dismissed, as we will give more details when we have them.”

At first, the group stayed silent, as if wary of his proposition. Some began peeling away to head home. Elinore knew her aura had already taken a liking to certain Magics, so it wouldn’t be useful for their experiments, but she figured she could at least offer her help with making the cure. She took a step towards the front of the crowd, but her father laid a hand on her arm to stop her.

“Elinore, you don’t know what it is you’re volunteering for. Please, don’t get involved,” he requested.

“I can at least help create the cure. I don’t have to be involved in the experiments,” she replied, laying a hand on top of his and giving him a small smile. “I’ll be careful.”

He sighed and removed his hand from her shoulder, silently consenting to her wishes. Though he wasn’t pleased, she knew he understood her desire to help, and wouldn’t stand in the way of something important to her.

As she turned away from her father and started towards the front of the crowd, she noticed a man about her age step forward. “I will gladly help,” he stated. She vaguely recognized his dark hair and gray eyes, leaving her to debate where she had seen him before.

“Thank you, young man. And what would your name be?” Joseph asked.

“Densin Remar,” he replied. When Elinore heard his name, she finally remembered where she had seen him before; a few months ago, at the yearly Freedom Festival, sheaccidentally bumped into him and that had lead to them spending the rest of the evening together. To her disappointment, she hadn’t seen much of him since.

Pushing the memories aside, Elinore hurried to join him as others did as well. Eventually, the crowd dispersed, leaving the group of volunteers near the front of the crowd. “Thank you for your willingness to help,” Joseph started. “I’ll show you to the laboratory where we’re performing our experiments. There, the cure and what we will need from you will be explained in further detail. At that point, you can decide whether or not you’re still willing to help. If you do agree, you will be required to reside at the lab for the duration of our experiments.”

With that, he started into town, and the crowd followed. They made their way to the edge of the city, where the jungle rose up to meet the buildings; thick foliage, and tall, ancient trees reached for them, the sounds of wildlife just beyond. Joseph started down a thin path. The jungle was still an eerie place to Elinore, even after living among it for a few years, making her a little hesitant to follow. But after a second more, she steeled her nerves and pressed after the group.

As they walked, Elinore was surprised to see Densin fall into step next to her. “It’s Elinore, right?” he asked.

With a smile, she confirmed, “Yes. It’s good to see you again, Densin.”

“Likewise. It’s been too long,” he agreed, returning the smile. “So, what do you think of all this?”

“I…honestly don’t know what to think yet. I just hope we can make this experimental cure work or find another one if it doesn’t. I’m tired of hearing stories of people losing loved ones,” she admitted.

His smile faded slightly. “You and me both,” he sighed, sounding weary already. She wondered if he had lost anyone to the disease, but didn’t have the heart to ask.

The group continued onwards. From among the palm trees appeared a large, square structure surrounded by deep gorges in the ground, leaving only a narrow path to the structure’s opening. It lacked windows, leaving Elinore to wonder how they kept the building lit. A thousand candles would never be enough. The walls were entirely made of the surrounding earth, which she guessed would explain the gorges. Despite how impressive it was to have formed the building from the earth, it gave it a primitive appearance, which was far from inviting.

“Is this really the lab?” Elinore wondered incredulously. She couldn’t imagine staying a day in the building, much less the weeks it would most likely take to finish the cure.

“That’s what I was thinking,” Densin muttered in agreement, eyeing the structure warily.

As they neared the rugged building, Joseph informed them, “It looks less than pleasant. We just needed a simple structure quickly, so we used Elemental Magics to form the surrounding earth into this. It’s crude, but it gets the job done.”

One by one, the group filed into the building and then gathered on the other side of the entrance. As Elinore stepped through, she first noticed it was impressively light, and the air was cool, allowing her to escape the jungle’s oppressive heat for the first time in years. She couldn’t resist a small sigh, smiling as she enjoyed the cooler temperature.

Then she noticed those that had already entered stared up at the roof, most looking surprised. Elinore too looked up, wondering what had drawn their attention. Instead of the rocky surface she had expected, she discovered a solid wall of what looked like a contained aura, thousands of colors swirling across its surface. It lit the room, but didn’t hurt to look at, as if it only gave off the gentle light of a typical aura.

“Ah, I see you’ve discovered our little _dan_ ,” Joseph commented as he entered the room behind them. Elinore recognized the Shidokian word for sun. “It monitors the temperature in the room, keeping it at a working level, as well as supplying us ample, hassle-free lighting all day and night. We figured that was easier than sweating constantly while working in the dark.” He paused, allowing them to admire their work, and then waved them on, saying, “Come now, there’s much to be done, and little time to do it.”

The group reluctantly moved on, Elinore and Densin among them. Joseph lead them through the lab, which was full of multiple workstations in a haphazard way that suggested they had been set up quickly, with little thought for organization. Medics buzzed about, seeming to work on a thousand different things at once, their auras and expressions reflecting the strain Elinore was sure they felt. They glanced up at the group, and some of them seemed relieved to see the volunteers. Elinore only hoped they’d be able to assist them as much as the Medics needed.

Joseph led them to a more open area near the center of the large structure, where a couple other Medics awaited them. There were low wooden benches placed in rows before the Medics, and the volunteers were invited to take a seat.

Joseph joined his comrades at the front of the group before he addressed them again. “I would like to introduce you to the Medics leading the research of this project.” Gesturing to the woman, who stood closest to him, he continued, “This is Sariah Ashcroft, the mind behind the idea for the cure and its creation.” Sariah had brown hair and hazel eyes, and a stern expression. She seemed to be in her mid-forties.

Gesturing to the man standing next to Sariah—who had blond hair and light brown eyes, and seemed much younger—Joseph continued, “And this is Andrew Griesenbeck. He oversees a very specialized part of the experiment, known as grafting, which we will explain further in a moment.” He paused a second and turned to Sariah. “Please, could you explain the basic functions of the cure, and how it was created?”

“Of course,” she replied with a nod, stepping up to address the group. “The cure is what you might call an artificial aura. It has the ability to temporarily collect someone’s aura within it without harming the person, and then essentially purge it of the disease while encouraging it to regenerate at a faster rate than normal. This process we refer to as purifying.

“Though our early tests are promising, we quickly realized their is one issue. Curing the disease doesn’t work if we try to purify an aura a bit at a time. The disease spreads very rapidly, and when confronted by the cure, it only spreads faster. This leaves us with only one option—an entire aura must be purified at once. This would require an entire aura’s worth of cure, and a way to use it on that scale. It becomes nearly impossible to contain and control it once there is that much of it in one place. This left us with a cure, but no way to use it.

“Eventually, we came up with a solution. If we could graft the cure to a healthy aura, it would adopt the abilities of the cure, and essentially allow that Aurae to become the cure. They could then purify multiple auras, allowing the cure to be more efficient as well. That is where we need your young, unspecialized auras for, but I will allow Andrew to explain the details of the graft.” She paused briefly, and then asked, “Any questions?”

A woman raised her hand to catch Sariah’s attention and asked, “Are there any side effects after the ill person is cured?”

“We aren’t entirely sure of this. Because we were only able to cure samples on very small levels, we aren’t sure what the overall effect will be. We’re certain it won’t be anything life-threatening,” Sariah explained. “Any other side effects that are discovered after they are healed, we will address as they come up. But I’m positive nothing could be worse than what they are dealing with now.”

Another hand was raised. “How is the grafting even possible? I didn’t think we could modify our auras.”

“I do believe Andrew will have more useful insight into that matter.” Sariah gestured to her colleague, who stepped forward to take her place.

“The grafting has proven to be the most troublesome part of this experiment,” Andrew began. “As you said, we’ve never been able to alter the nature of our auras, but I’ve long since believed it to be possible—we have just never tried it, because of the danger it poses. The aura is so connected to an Aurae’s life that tampering with it on this level could have serious consequences. Unfortunately, we did run into these…consequences, in our experiments so far. We have only attempted a small handful of grafts, and almost all were rejected. The one that did take almost instantly killed the Aurae.”

Gasps and nervous whispers could be heard through the crowd, to which Andrew raised a hand in a reassuring gesture. “We have found a solution to this. This is the reason we needed younger, undeveloped auras; these auras can accept the change readily, without immediate risk to their life. We aren’t sure what side effects could be present afterward, but we believe it is possible to retract the graft with some work, so if anything developed, we could simply reverse the process.” This seemed to reassure the crowd. Elinore at least felt better about it.

“With this, we know there may be some of you unwilling to take such a great risk, and we understand that,” Andrew added. “Please, if you feel you cannot help with this part of the experiments, at least consider staying to help create the cure. But if you would rather not participate at all, feel free to leave at any time during this meeting. Just remember, this is our only hope of saving our community. I don’t mean to be bleak, but at the rate this disease is spreading, it threatens the stability of our colony.”

Elinore was surprised by how few did choose to leave. Most were parents with younger children close to the cut-off age who had decided they didn’t want them to take the risk. It warmed her heart to know so many were willing to help.

Obviously pleased as well, Joseph smiled as he joined Andrew and told them, “Thank you again for your willingness. From here, we need to find out where best you can help us. For those of you who do not feel like you have developed a specialty—and please note this isn’t just that you have chosen something to study, but that you have actually found success in them—please come join me on this side of the circle. We have to double check your aura is in fact a blank slate, just to be safe. For those who do know their specialty, Sariah and Andrew will help you find a spot within the process of creating the graft that will fit you best. After this, you will be immediately shown to your living quarters and working space. Good luck!”

The crowd quickly broke up into two smaller groups, the one Elinore joined much larger than the other. She knew her aura wouldn’t allow her to accept the graft, and she quickly realized there were very few that did.

Sariah and Andrew started making their way through the group, asking specifics of their auras and writing them down in a small notebook. When Sariah reached her, she requested, “your name please.”

“Elinore Tamburlaine.”

Sariah scribbled this down in her elegant doctor’s script and then asked, “What is it that you feel your aura is best at?” she asked.

“I seem to have a proficiency in the Elemental Magics, though I’m no expert,” Elinore admitted humbly.

Sariah smiled. “We definitely have plenty of use for your talents. Thank you for your help,” she told Elinore, before hurrying to the next person.

After they finished, they were led to their living quarters, and then depending on their assignment broke off with different Auraes. Elinore was led to a place with several long rows of tables. A group of Auraes were scattered among them, keeping fires going underneath small pots.

The Aurae leading them paused, glancing over the tables, and then explained, “During a point in the creation of the cure, it must cook at an exact temperature for a certain amount of time. We found it easiest to use Fire Magic in this case because it’s the only way to keep the fire at the exact temperature. You will each be assigned a table to manage, but don’t worry if you can’t maintain the fire for long or many at once; we will work with whatever you can do.”

Soon, Elinore found herself working. It wasn’t hard for her to maintain the small fires on her table, and she quickly grew bored, but she managed to keep herself distracted in daydreams. Towards the end of the day, they were given time to eat and then were allowed to venture back to town to collect belongings they would need for the duration of the stay and inform their families of how best to communicate with them.

Finally, she found herself heading back to her quarters after several more hours of keeping the fires lit. Toting the last of her luggage underneath the blanket-tent door, she let out an exhausted huff as she set it down. “Long day?” somebody asked from behind.

Elinore turned to see Densin. “You could say that. Though I think this luggage was far more difficult than the job they assigned me to.”

Densin smiled slightly, looking slightly amused. “What is it they’re having you do?” he inquired.

“Watch a pot boil,” she joked, to which he rewarded her with a chuckle. She smiled, and added, “Actually, I’m watching several pots boil, at a very, very specific temperature.”

“Sounds complicated,” he mused. His amusement lit up his eyes, making them the most beautiful shade of blue-gray Elinore had ever seene. She smiled, ducking her head in an attempt to hide her blush. The sudden attention, and her sudden acknowledgment of how attractive Densin actually was left her feeling a bit shy.

Needing to escape, Elinore quickly asked, “What are you doing to help?”

Densin’s smile turned slightly to a smirk, a bit of pride in his gaze. “My aura’s perfect to accept the graft,” he informed her, his words borderline a brag.

Surprised, Elinore responded, “Really?”

“That it is,” he confirmed with a nod. Then his expression turned to one of annoyance. “But right now, they don’t have me doing much. I would help with what you’re doing until they’re ready to do the grafts, but they won’t let me learn the magic for creating the cure. I literally have to stick to the very basic Magics, as they fear any experimenting whatsoever could change my aura. It’s a good thing the little time I spent playing around with the Elemental Magics never lead to anything.”

“Hmm. I guess it is. But then if it had, you could join me watching pots boil,” she offered sarcastically.

He chuckled, and then admitted, “I wouldn’t mind that. At least I’d have good company.”

She smiled, hoping his comment wouldn’t make her blush again. “What you’re doing is far more important, in the long run.”

“But I wouldn’t get anywhere if you weren’t here help make the cure,” he argued playfully.

Elinore rolled her eyes. “The Medics could have handled that. The cure would have been finished soon enough either way.”

“But it would have taken longer, and I think that would have driven me insane. As it is, there is still quite a risk of that happening,” he mused sarcastically. Sobering a bit, he added, “The minute they’re ready to try the first graft, I’m volunteering for it. I don’t think I can sit around doing nothing for much longer.”

One eyebrow raised, Elinore teased, “Somebody’s impatient.”

His smile faded, and his words took on a sorrowful note as he said, “There are people dying from this disease, and we have their answer. The sooner we get this whole part done, the sooner we can get to healing them.”

All sense of humor gone, Elinore smiled again, for a different reason. “I’m sure they’re grateful for how willing you are to help. We all are,” she told him. She couldn’t help but admire his dedication.

Now it was his turn to look slightly embarrassed, but he shook it off quickly. “I’ll do whatever it takes.” After a pause, he added, “Well, it’s getting late. Unless you need any help with the luggage, we better be saying goodnight.”

“I think I can manage,” she decided, eyeing the luggage warily. Then she turned back to him. “Thank you for the offer though.”

He nodded. “You’re welcome. See you tomorrow then?” he requested. He stated it with a confidence that lead her to believe he already knew he would see her, and wouldn’t have it any other way. Then, he gave a small wave as he walked away, giving her no time to answer.

“See you,” Elinore whispered, suddenly excited for the prospect of future meetings.

* * *

_** Mariea ** _

The vision retreated for a moment, but Mariea did not return to her own world yet. Shewatched as several days passed quickly. Elinore continued to work on her part of the cure along with the hundred or so others who had joined the Medics. With the extra hands, things went much faster. Despite this, the heavy sense of worry did not leave them, emphasized by several more colonists falling ill. They were racing against time to get the cure to their comrades and loved ones before the disease managed to wipe out the whole colony. No amount of quarantining or precautions seemed to prevent its spread.

Then, three weeks later, they had finally created enough of the cure to attempt the first graft…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is when things get interesting. Writing a story in the past isn't easy, haha. Hopefully I managed it well enough. I do enjoy Elinore's story, though.


	18. The Grafts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mariea learns more of Elinore's story
> 
> NOTE: If you read chapter 17 before 1/29/21, I've edited it, so you'll have to go back and read a bit. Sorry for the inconvenience. This one is also being updated as of the same date.

** Chapter Eighteen **

** Grafts **

_** Elinore ** _

Elinore pushed her way through the throng of busy people, clutching a small vile close to her chest. In the vial swirled a murky green gas, the result of hours of grueling work by the team the Medics had gathered in their makeshift lab. After seeing just how much of the chemicals were poured into the final pots to cook, Elinore had hoped they would have had enough cure to attempt several grafts. However, when the final vial emerged, hardly anything was left of what had been poured in. It wasn’t hard to see now why they needed so many Auraes working on the process—it would take years to finish with the small group of Medics they had available.

When she reached a closed-off area near the far end of the laboratory, Elinore allowed her pace to slow as she stepped through the curtains. Beyond, there was about a dozen medics gathered. She searched the group for the now familiar splash of blond hair and finally found Andrew.

He noticed her approaching, and then brightened when he saw the vial in her hands. “Finally.” He quickly asked one of his team to go retrieve one of the graft volunteers, and then turned back to Elinore. Instead of taking the vial as she expected, he asked, “Are you quite busy at the moment?”

“Not entirely,” she replied.

He nodded. “My assistant is ill. Could you fill in for them?”

“I could, though I’m not a Medic,” Elinore reminded him, glancing warily at the group before her. “Wouldn’t it be better if you had somebody more experienced?”

“I don’t need a Medic, just somebody to look after that until I need it,” he informed her, pointing at the vial. “It’s best it stays away from our auras until we ready for it.”

Elinore glanced at the vial, and then nodded, deciding the task seemed easy enough. Andrew smiled. “Perfect! We’ll be ready to go in just a moment.”

It wasn’t long before the Medic who had left to retrieve one of the volunteers reappeared, followed closely by a familiar face; when Densin noticed her, he gave a small wave, smiling slightly.

Elinore moved away from Andrew to stand nearer to Densin. “So, you did in fact volunteer first,” she mused.

“Of course. There was no way I could wait any longer. That insanity I mentioned was setting in faster than I thought—I can’t tell you how many card games I’ve lost, and yet, I kept betting. I was sure to be entirely destitute if I had to wait another day,” he replied, smiling slightly in amusement. She laughed softly, shaking her head a bit at his antics. Then, he glanced around and asked, “Are you helping?”

“Apparently,” Elinore confirmed reluctantly. “Though all I’m doing is watching after this.” She lifted the vial slightly to indicate it.

He looked at it with a slight hint of apprehension as he nodded. “So that’s it, then, huh?” She nodded. “Looks harmless enough. It’s amazing how something seemingly so benign can have the potential to cause real problems.”

“You’re quite right, my friend,” Andrew stated as he joined them, making Elinore realize he had overheard their conversation. His gaze turned to Densin. “You sound a bit worried. Are you still sure you want to go through with this?”

Densin nodded, meeting Andrew’s gaze. “People need this. I’m not backing out now.”

Seeming a bit reassured, Andrew nodded. Turning to the rest of the group, he called their attention. “Alright then, let’s get started.” He gestured Densin to the examination bed in the center of the room. “One more thing,” Andrew told him as Densin made himself comfortable. “Throughout the grafting, you must listen carefully to my every instruction. Even if things git a bit worrisome, don’t panic. You’re in good hands here. I have the greatest team.” Densin nodded, managing a half smile.

The Medics gathered around him, and then Andrew waved Elinore over. She cautiouslyapproached, taking up a spot on Andrew’s left. She felt quite out of place standing with the group of Medics, but she stayed put, trying not to seem nervous for Densin’s sake.

“Let your aura be free,” Andrew instructed Densin, and so Densin allowed his pale gray aura to surround him. The Medics followed suit, first with Andrew’s bright yellow aura. They shared a glance, and then Andrew nodded. He began a spell, and the others quickly joined, layering their own magic with his as the room filled with the sound of many Shidokian phrases blending together.

After a bit, Andrew requested Elinore open the vial. She did so, and the murky smoke slowly leaked from it. Before it could get too far, Andrew spoke a couple muttered words and it was suddenly caught in his aura, pulling towards him. Static electricity danced between the two substances where they touched. Elinore could sense the tension the interaction caused and couldn’t help but wonder if that was a good sign. If this was supposed to merge with Densin’s aura, should it be reacting that way to Andrew’s aura?

As the Medics continued to craft the spells, the green mist left Andrew’s aura to surround Densin’s. He watched it curiously, as did Elinore. The words of the spells changed as the Medics continued, and Elinore sensed a shift in the magic; It was hard to keep track of what they were saying with everyone talking at once, but there was something strangely…wrong about the spells. She shivered slightly, hating the ominous undertone that settled over the room. Never had she been uncomfortable around Aurae magic, but the spells they were using left a dark feeling in the pit of her stomach.

They also spoke of power, and Elinore could tell the spells were very complicated. As she watched, her apprehension of being involved was quickly forgotten. Never had she witnessed such magic. As she watched, the strength of their words and her enthrallment in the moment caused her aura to join the others without her noticing.

As the spells continued to progress, the line between Densin’s aura and the cure began to blur. He frowned, seeming a little uncomfortable, and then gasped, his eyes widening for a second before squeezing shut as his whole body tensed with pain. Elinore’s breath caught, surprised by the sudden shift. She stepped closer, wanting to help, but then she realized she had no idea what she could do for him. She hovered, biting her lip uncertainly as she watched him struggle under the weight of the magic.

The spells continued, which only made things worse for Densin. The pain didn’t seem to be lessening, and as time went on, he seemed to be growing weaker. Elinore glanced to Andrew, wondering if this was normal, and if he was as worried for Densin as she was. He seemed a little nervous as he took in Densin’s condition, but he wasn’t panicking. _He did say it wasn’t easy for the aura to survive the graft. This must be why,_ she thought, her mind racing as she began to realize just how small of a chance Densin had of surviving.

Finally, it became impossible to tell the difference between the graft and Densin’s aura as the murky green replaced his usual gray. The Medics began finishing the spells, making the change permanent. Elinore could tell his strength was fading fast, and she hoped they would finish soon.

When the Medics finally stopped their chanting, Densin’s aura disappeared quickly. He lay still, the pain in his expression gone, but it left him looking so lifeless. His complexion was drained of all color, and for a moment, it seemed he wasn’t breathing.

“Did we… lose him?” one of the Medics asked softly.

“No,” Andrew stated, shaking his head slightly. “If we were going to lose him, he would have died already. He’ll make it.” He glanced up and his gaze passed over the crowd, as he managed a small smile, albeit a weary one. “Congratulations, my friends. We’ve accomplished something truly extraordinary.”

“But at what cost?” The medic to Elinore’s left whispered, so quietly Elinore was sure she was the only one who heard it. The woman stared at Densin, looking almost a bit haunted, leaving Elinore to wonder what she knew that the others didn’t.

After a long pause, another Medic stated, “I wished there was something we could do to help him.”

“We have to let him recover on his own,” Andrew admitted reluctantly. He straightened, and then his aura returned, and a small yellow band wrapped around Densin’s wrist. “This will allow me to monitor him from a distance. Let’s let him rest.”

The Medics slipped away, but Elinore found herself reluctant to leave, partly because she didn’t want to leave Densin alone—but also because she was suddenly overcome with a wave of exhaustion, so much so she wasn’t sure she had the strength to remain standing. Sitting at the foot of the bed, she steadied herself, wondering why she was so tired.

One of the Medics returned with a blanket, which she draped over Densin to try and make him more comfortable. After a long period of silence where Elinore lost track of time, Densin stirred, blinking in the dim light. He seemed disoriented, searching his surroundings with bleary eyes.

Relief chased her worry away, and her shoulders slumped as she managed a smile. “Hey,” she greeted softly.

With a grunt, he tried to shift into a sitting position, still looking slightly disoriented. “What happened?” he managed.

“From what I can tell, the graft worked, but you passed out,” she informed him. He nodded, seeming to consider this. His aura appeared around him, and he raised a hand to study the swirling light surrounding it in silence. Elinore noticed it was still the murky green of the cure, and she wondered if the gray would ever return. For some reason, the color made her slightly uncomfortable, like the grafting spells had. Or was it his aura itself that unnerved her? Now that she thought of it, it felt different to her.

Then his focus shifted directions and he said, “Thank you for staying. It was good to have a familiar face…and…I really think you being there gave me the strength to survive.”

“All I did was stand there. You were so strong, and all on your own,” she denied, feeling a bit embarrassed at his comment.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant it literally. Somehow, I was able to draw on the strength of your aura. It was endless, and when my strength failed, you easily supported us both, maybe without even noticing it.”

Elinore stayed silent, considering this. _Maybe that’s why I felt so tired earlier,_ she mused.

Just then, Andrew poked his head in and then brightened when he saw Densin was awake. “Ah! Densin! How are you feeling?” he inquired as he stepped completely into the room.

“Better now that I’ve had time to rest,” he replied.

“Good, good. We were worried there for a moment,” he commented. “But I knew you would be fine.” Elinore couldn’t help but note he now spoke with a confidence that had definitely not been there earlier. “Now. How about your aura, does it seem any different?” he asked.

“Mmm…” Densin muttered and then his aura appeared around him again. “It seems… stronger. Much stronger.”

“Hmm,” Andrew contemplated, studying the aura curiously. Elinore wondered if he sensed the change she could, and if it bothered him as much as it did her.

“And…I noticed I can hear better and see much clearer now. Suddenly life seems so detailed and clear, like I’ve been living underneath a sheet,” Densin added.

“An unexpected but welcome bonus, it seems,” Andrew mused. “It does make some sense; the graft was designed to enhance the aura’s natural processes of regeneration. It seems it does the same thing for other functions as well.”

“Now we just have to see if the cure works,” Densin stated.

“Oh, it will. But I think it would be better if we wait a few days, and allow you to rest,” Andrew suggested.

Densin sighed, clearly reluctant to wait, but Elinore could see the exhaustion in his expression. “I should be ready by tomorrow,” he decided.

Andrew smiled, a hint of admiration in his gaze. “Tomorrow then. We’ll talk about details then. You rest.”

“Yes doctor,” Densin agreed with a mock salute and a weary half smile, and then settled back into the bed with a sigh.

“We should leave him be,” Andrew suggested to Elinore.

She glanced at Densin, a bit reluctant to leave him alone, but he was already dozing. “You’re probably right,” Elinore agreed, and followed the Medic out.

As they stepped from the room, Andrew paused and said, “Elinore, a word with you for a moment, please?”

“Of course,” she agreed, so he gestured for her to follow. He led her to his makeshift office along one of the walls of the lab; it was one of few rooms with actual walls and a door within the entire building, though it lacked a roof, allowing the makeshift _dan_ above to still supply light. Inside, he sunk into the chair behind his desk with a heavy sigh.

“Is…everything alright?” Elinore wondered.

He nodded. “Quite alright, actually. It’s just…something about this whole thing unsettles me.” He waved his hand as if to brush away the worries and said, “Never mind. That’s not what I wanted to discuss with you.”

Leaning forward, he rested his arms against the desk and looked up to meet her gaze. “By my account, Densin should not have survived.”

Elinore’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean? He’s obviously fine.”

“Yes, but something happened during the graft to make that possible. Something none of us had planned for,” Andrew explained.

“What?” Elinore pressed.

Andrew seemed to contemplate this in silence for a moment, as if he had no idea. “I’m not entirely sure, but…I think it had something to do with you.”

Elinore blinked in surprise, staring at him. “Me?” She asked when she finally found her voice.

“Yes,” Andrew confirmed. “I’m not sure how, but…he drew from your strength, somehow. We’re going to have to learn to compensate for that in future grafts.”

“Oh,” Elinore muttered, reflecting on the brief conversation she had shared with Densin before Andrew had joined them. _I guess he was right,_ she mused.

“I wanted to ask if you knew anything about it,” Andrew added.

Elinore thought of it for a moment. “Not…really. I was pretty tired afterwards, and Densin mentioned he believes something similar, so I think you might be right, but…well, other than that, I don’t know.”

“Hmm,” Andrew muttered. “Well, think about it. If you come up with anything, let me know, alright?”

“Of course,” Elinore agreed with a nod.

* * *

It was about a week after the graft was completed that Densin was finally allowed to begin using his new aura. He and Andrew traveled to a nearby quarantine camp, leaving everyone else waiting in anticipation. Little work was accomplished that day—Elinore found herself to anxious to focus on much for long, and she clearly wasn’t the only one.

When the pair returned near nightfall, a crowd gathered around the entrance to the lab. When she noticed them, she hurried to join them. Andrew was speaking to them with Densinstanding at this side, a sheepish half-smile on the corner of his lips. When the crowd began clapping, Elinore smiled, guessing it was safe to say the cure worked.

After a bit, Andrew escorted Densin through the crowd, allowing him to slip away while other Medics gave a full report to anyone who wanted to hear more of what had happened. Elinore lingered long enough to hear Densin had managed to heal a whole roomful of people that day, many more than they had intended for his first day. She smiled, shaking her head slightly. It seemed he was still eager to go above and beyond.

Then, from behind her, she heard someone call her name in a hushed tone. She turned to notice Densin standing near the back of the crowd, clearly trying to avoid being seen. He motioned for her to follow him, and then quickly slinked away. She glanced back at the crowd briefly to make sure nobody was paying attention and then hurried after Densin.

He slipped out a back door of the lab and continued into the jungle. Despite her original apprehension of venturing into the trees at night, she only hesitated a moment before following him. She trailed after him for a few minutes in silence, until he finally stopped, leaning against a tree with a heavy sigh.

When he did, she finally got a good look at his expression, and was amazed by the weight she saw there. She would have expected him to be excited about the progress they had made. She briefly wondered if he was just exhausted, but this seemed like more.

“Are you alright?” she asked him.

“Mostly,” he muttered, but he sounded very uncertain. “I think.”

“What’s wrong?” she pressed, more worried now.

“Something just…happened today, and I need to tell someone,” he started, shifting slightly.

“You can tell me,” she urged gently.

He nodded. Folding his arms against his chest, Densin’s gaze stayed glued to the ground as he spoke. “Healing those people, it was one of the most amazing things I’ve ever experienced, but not for the reasons I expected. Sure, it was nice to know I was helping them. But above all that there was this…overwhelming feeling. I…don’t know how to describe it.” He shook his head slightly, clearly annoyed words were failing him so entirely.

After a pause, he continued. “It was like the purest, sweetest joy I’ve ever felt. It made me feel complete, limitless. Powerful. And I wanted it to stay. But every time I gave their aura back, it would fade.”

He looked up to her warily. “The worst part is, I know if I were to keep their aura, that feeling would stay for much longer. And I know it’s possible, for me to just…claim their aura and make it part of mine. But…that would kill them.”

Elinore’s gaze widened, worry settling in the pit of her stomach. “That’s…troubling,” she muttered, unsure of what else to say.

Densin glanced away. “It seems so obviously wrong to even contemplate doing so as I speak of it, but in the moment, it’s a hard urge to ignore. I almost lost it with the last aura I healed. It was so powerful…and I really wanted to know what it would feel like to claim it.”

“What do we do about this?” Elinore asked quietly.

Densin shrugged, looking frustrated again. “I have to keep healing them. This is the only answer we have right now.”

“Should we tell the Medics? They might be able to help,” Elinore asked.

He seemed to consider it for a moment, and then his lips pressed into a thin line as he shook his head. “I wanted to. But after seeing the joy and excitement among them, and seeing the sick get better, I…couldn’t take that away from them. If the medics knew what I had experienced, they would make me stop. I’ll wait until I’ve healed everyone I can, and then I’ll tell them.”

“But…what if you…” Elinore stated, unable to finish. She didn’t want to imagine what would happen if he did slip and gave in to the temptation to keep an aura.

“I won’t let that happen,” Densin insisted with a surprising amount of force. He swallowed hard, a haunted look in his eyes. “I can’t.”

Elinore let out a small sigh, and then told him, “If you think you can handle it, I trust you.”

He smiled slightly, meeting her gaze again. “Thank you.”

She nodded, managing to return the smile, and then the two fell silent. “I wonder what caused this. I’m sure the medics didn’t want for this to happen.”

Densin shrugged as he shook his head slightly. “Who knows. All of this is so experimental. I didn’t realize just how impossible all of this should be until I saw just how baffled some of the medics working in the quarantine camp were. Even they couldn’t understand what my aura can do. I guess we’re in uncharted waters, now.”

“Hopefully, after you tell the medics about this, they’ll be able to find a solution.”

He nodded slightly. “Hopefully.” Then he pushed away from the tree and took a deep breath as he glanced up at the sky. “But for now, I could use a good night’s rest, and it’s late. I shouldn’t be keeping you out here. It’s not very gentlemanly of me. I’m sorry to have bothered you, you’re just the only person here I really know.”

“I don’t mind,” Elinore quickly told him. “I’m happy to help. There’s no reason why you should have to carry this burden alone.”

He smiled again, and this one seemed a bit more genuine. “Thank you again, Elinore. Come. I’ll walk you to your quarters.” The pair walked back to the lab in companionable silence.

The next morning, work began more vigorously on making more of the cure, a newfound energy amongst the team brought on by Densin’s success. He continued healing over the next few days, but he was more careful to not overwhelm himself. He found spending his freetime alone and keeping away from large crowds of Auraes soothed the need slightly. But Elinore hated to see him so isolated, so when he would allow it, she accompanied him. They grew close in their time away from the chaos.

Oddly enough, it did seem he was benefited by the graft as well. His increased awareness of the world around him remained, and his aura seemed stronger, more capable. When he used it for magic, Elinore couldn’t help but be amazed by how quickly he caught on to new techniques, and how easily he completed previously difficult tasks.

It wasn’t long after their first day spent healing that Elinore heard another graft was attempted and succeeded. She eventually learned from Andrew how they managed to compensate for the strength she had accidentally offered Densin—energy, drawn from spells such as was used to create the artificial lighting in the lab. It wasn’t as clean of a solution as her own strength had been, but it somehow worked, and it satisfied the Medics.

Over the next few weeks, several more grafts were completed. Each graft was easier than the last as the Medics were able to explore the possibilities the spells offered and alter them to make things easier.

Beyond the lab, word spread quickly of their success, and, somehow, the few benefits of the graft leaked as well. It made Elinore a bit uncomfortable to see how it excited the general populous, especially since they didn’t know anything about the negative effects of the graft. She asked Densin a couple more times if he wanted to speak to somebody about his struggles, but he seemed set on keeping it quiet. Eventually, she stopped asking.

Then, one day, the medics gathered the whole settlement together at the town square and announced they could now offer the graft to anyone who was willing to take it, regardless of their aura, and with none of the previous risks. Many stepped forward. Though many of the new volunteers seemed to want to help Densin and the other healers, Elinore wondered if at least a few of them were interested in gaining the extra power the graft offered.

As the crowd dispersed and a much larger group began heading back to the lab, Densin approached Elinore. “Now that you can, will you take the graft?” He asked.

Elinore didn’t answer for a moment. “I…don’t know.”

“If you don’t want to, nobody will judge you for it,” he reassured her, obviously picking up on her hesitation.

She sighed. “I’m just worried.”

“That’s understandable. I wouldn’t wish this burden on anyone,” he admitted. “Plus, you’re already doing plenty by helping the Medics make the cure. We’re going to need a lot more of it, now.”

Elinore nodded. “I’ll stick to that, then, I guess.” Glancing at him cautiously, she added, “Do you think we should warn them about the side effects, before they start spreading the graft to so many people?”

He frowned slightly, and part of her wondered if she had annoyed him by asking again.“No. The other healers and I, we’re learning to deal with it, so it’s not nearly as much of a problem.”

Elinore nodded again. She couldn’t help but be worried they weren’t making the right decision, but she figured he knew best. He was the one dealing with all the change, not her. It wasn’t her call to make.

As more people were able to join Densin in the healing process, it took some of the pressure off him, but despite the increased number of those able to fight the disease, the crowd of ill never seemed to end. Densin tried to remain positive, but, once, he admitted to her he felt the quarantine camps would never empty. Even as they fought to heal everyone, more fell ill. It was clear they were struggling to get the upper hand.

After dinner one night, Elinore found herself alone with Densin, as they often were. That evening, he strolled out towards an open meadow near the lab, Elinore falling into step next to him. He seemed tired and tightly strung, but he always was after a long day of work.

He sighed. “Do you ever wonder what our lives would have been like if this sickness hadn’t taken over?” he wondered, his gaze far away.

Elinore frowned slightly, nostalgia filling her. “I wonder that a lot. I was offered an apprenticeship with a master of the Elemental Magics. Soon after, he got sick, and I was never able to begin my studies. I don’t know if he’s even alive now.”

“Such wasted opportunity,” Densin griped, giving a little shake of his head. “And I was going to join the Sentinels. I was on my way to their office when the meeting was called about this whole ordeal. Now…I doubt I could get my aura to behave well enough to be able to use it on such a regular basis.”

“It’s really that much of a problem?” She wondered. She had noticed he mostly avoided using magic, choosing to allow others to complete tasks for him, despite how powerful his aura was. She figured it was because he was exhausted from spending so much time healing people, but now she wondered if she had misread the situation.

He glanced at her quickly, looking almost as if he hadn’t meant to admit the struggle. He shrugged slightly. “It’s not that bad. I just don’t trust myself around so many auras. I’ll probably find myself more comfortable in a less magic-intensive career, after this.”

She frowned slightly, about to ask once again if this wasn’t something they should be keeping a secret, but he seemed to want to move on. He managed a small bittersweet smile and told her, “Sorry. I actually didn’t drag you out here to talk about my problems once again.”

She managed a smile. “You’re fine. It’s good to talk about it sometimes.”

“True. But I fear I dwell on it much too often. I actually wanted to ask you a question. Or, more request something of you,” he continued.

“And what would that be?” she pressed, eyeing him curiously.

“In a couple weeks, my father is hosting a Midsummer’s Eve festival. It’s always a big to do, but everyone is so excited it seems we may yet survive this plague, I bet it’ll be a thousand times bigger than usual. I was hoping…you would accompany me,” he requested, giving her a sheepish smile.

Her heart skipped a beat, and her smile grew. “I’d love to come,” she agreed, knowing she wouldn’t want to miss it. On that night of the year, Auraes received an extra boost of power, and it had become their biggest holiday in response.

He smiled, and his grin was contagious. Maybe for a moment, they could ignore their troubles and enjoy a night together.

* * *

_** Mariea ** _

The vision faded slightly, but Mariea could still see Elinore for a moment more. Over the next few months, the colony finally managed to cure the last of the diseased, and life seemed to return to normal. Time passed as if she was watching the next few years in fast forward. After a time, Densin and Elinore married, and started a life together on a farm they bought on the outskirts of town. They had two children, a girl about four, and a boy about a year old. They were happy, and it warmed Mariea’s heart to see it.

But it seemed their peace would not last forever. Just as the vision began to fade, Mariea heard rumors of unrest beginning to circulate through the town, and it seemed not even Elinore’s young family would be able to escape.

Snapping back to reality, Mariea found herself laying on the sand, Bracken at her side, looking incredibly worried. “I’m alright,” she grunted, and immediately his shoulders slumped in relief.

Pushing herself up into a sitting position, she leaned her elbow against a leg, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. It was hard to get her mind back to the present; the vision had seemed so real, she felt as if she had been yanked from one reality to another. She had been there, feeling and living everything Elinore had, to the point that the images seemed more like memories.

“You sure you’re alright?” Mae asked, reminding Mariea she wasn’t alone. She was kneeling on Mariea’s left, opposite of Bracken, and seemed just as worried.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Mariea reassured them, lifting her head slightly as she finally managed to gather her thoughts. “I just…it seems as I come to places where Elinore was, I see more of what it was she wanted to show me. I see her life. It’s…almost as if I’m living it.”

Bracken let out a small sigh as he gently brushed the sand from her hair and back. “You had us worried there. We couldn’t wake you up to save our lives.”

“Not even Magics would do it,” Mae muttered, sounding a little miffed.

Mariea managed a weak smile. “I get the feeling this is going to become a regular thing until I know all of Elinore’s message,” she warned them.

“I guess that means you don’t have any clues to what’s happening back home then, huh?” Bracken asked, sounding disappointed.

Shaking her head, Mariea replied, “Not yet, but I think I will soon.” She paused a minute, trying to process all that she had learned. “There was a settlement here, a long time ago.” Shifting to face the jungle, she was surprised to find there was no sign of the town. Saddened, Mariea stood, wondering what had happened to it. Obviously, several years had passed, but she would have thought at least some of the structures would remain.

Her companions followed, obviously eager for details, so she told them, “I…don’t know what happened to it. There was a disease, and…Elinore helped to cure it. It felt almost similar to what we’re dealing with back home.” She rubbed at her temple, fighting a slight headache. “They used magics that were way beyond us—creating artificial suns, creating whole buildings out of the earth, modifying auras on a basic level…” She paused, shaking her head slightly as she marveled over it all.

“Wait, you mean they changed the basic composition of an aura?” Bracken repeated, staring at her with amazement and disbelief. “That shouldn’t be possible.”

“I know, but they did it. The magic seemed…odd,” she muttered, remembering how it seemed everyone was disturbed by it but nobody seemed to want to talk about it. “They also spoke of auras as if they were somehow designed for certain purposes. Like…each aura has a focus. A preference, in the magics its used for.”

“I’ve heard of that before,” Mae nodded. “It’s something we study as Medics. Helps us better understand how to deal with aura-related diseases.”

“Interesting,” Mareia muttered.

The three fell silent for a moment, and then Bracken asked, “So, now what? Where do we need to go for the next dream?”

Mariea’s gaze returned to the jungle warily. “I think it’s going to be somewhere in there.” She pointed in the general direction of where the settlement had been.

Glancing warily at the uninviting jungle, Bracken muttered, “I’m not sure how I feel about going in there.”

“What, are you afraid of a little jungle?” Mae mocked, smirking.

“We don’t know what’s in there,” Bracken argued.

“I don’t think there’s any wildlife on this island,” Mariea commented, cutting Mae off before she could pester Bracken anymore. Though she had no way to know for sure, Mariea had noticed how silent it was once they had reached the island, and she hadn’t seen a single bit of life anywhere other than the greenery.

Her companions looked to her in surprise. She simply shrugged and told them, “Listen.”

After a pause, Bracken nodded in agreement. “I think you’re right. It’s too quiet—no animal calls, no birds, not even insects.” 

“If it’s empty, then what are you afraid of?” Mae wondered, glancing between the pair with an incredulous look.

“Just because the jungle is empty doesn’t make it any less creepy. In fact, it makes it more creepy,” Bracken decided.

“Yeah,” Mariea agreed. “ What caused it to be so void of life?”

Mae’s confusion faded slightly, and she frowned, glancing back at the trees in question with a tad bit more reservation.

Mariea sighed. “But I’m sure that’s where the rest of the message will be, so…I guess it’s into the creepy jungle whether we like it or not,” she muttered.

They all hesitated for a painfully long moment, none of them feeling very confident in that statement. Then Bracken glanced up at the sky. “It’s late. Maybe we should just camp here. I think I’ll be a lot less reluctant if it wasn’t getting dark.”

“Yeah, I like that idea,” Mae quickly agreed.

“I’ll grab our stuff from the boat,” Mariea decided just as quickly.

They set up camp facing the water, and after a while, Mariea was able to push away her worries. But she couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to the feeling of apprehension they all shared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think of the transitions between Elinore and Mariea's POV. It's been one of the hardest parts for me to write effectively.


	19. Long Walk Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Altaira and Mefune make their way home.
> 
> NOTE: If you read chapter 17 or 18 before 1/29/21, I've edited them, so you'll have to go back and reread a bit. Sorry for the inconvenience.

** Chapter Nineteen **

** Long Walk Back **

_** Mefune ** _

Mefune woke early the next morning. He was usually up near dawn, and today he was too restless to sleep late. Carefully, he slipped away from Altaira, who was still deep asleep. Worried she would get cold if he left, he shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her, and then slipped outside.

The forest was peaceful that morning, covered in a light fog that disappeared slowly as the day warmed. Memories of when he had first laid eyes on such a view played in his mind, reminding him of how beautiful he had thought the forest was. At the time, he had been totally unaware of the dangers that hid underneath its canopy. Dangers they had to face again that day. He let out a sigh, glancing back towards the cave where Altaira still slept. He had done all he could for her wounds last night, but he worried it still wasn’t enough. She had been surprisingly weak last night. There wasn’t anything he could do for exhaustion. And they were still so far from home.

This left him reflecting on the chaos of the night before. When they had reached the cave and he had seen just how badly she was suffering, he was suddenly angry. Angry at the Tarapor for putting her at risk, angry at himself for forcing the idea of their reckless trek through the forest, and angry at nature itself for the storm that had caused the injuries in the first place. It was such an irrational anger, he knew it, but he couldn’t dismiss it easily. Suddenly keeping her safe was all that mattered.

But as he had patched up the wounds and relief replaced his fear, he was left to consider what had caused such a need. He wasn’t one for attachments. But from the moment the tree had fallen, something had changed. He wasn’t sure what, but it had already pushed him to do things he had told himself he never would—like use his aura to heal her. Or tell her about it. Or stay there, with her sleeping against his shoulder, without a second thought. At the time, he had dismissed it as exhaustion, but part of him knew there was more to it than that, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

He shook his head, trying to make himself focus on the issue at hand, but his thoughts wandered. He too was exhausted. But he couldn’t afford to be. He had to get them both home safely, and still deal with Samar. There had to be a way he could manage both.

She joined him after a few hours, still wrapped in his jacket. She settled next to him, just close enough their shoulders touched, and then handed him a ration bar. He smirked slightly as he took it. “Can’t say I’m looking forward to another one of these,” he muttered.

She chuckled as she ripped hers open. “What, you’re not enjoying this exotic cuisine?”

“Not entirely.”

They ate in silence for a moment. “Thanks for this,” she stated after a moment, indicating his jacket.

“You’re welcome. Didn’t want you to get cold.”

She smiled softly, shaking her head slightly. “You think of everything.”

He let out an amused huff. “Apparently lately I do,” he muttered, more to himself than anything.

She gave him a curious look, but he decided to change the subject. No need to explain where that little thought came from. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. Achy though. And entirely not looking forward to another day fighting Tarapor,” she admitted.

“Honestly I don’t think you should keep fighting. There’s not much more I can do to heal those wounds any faster, and they didn’t fare as well as I had hoped they would last night. You need to rest.”

“But we still have a ways to go before we make it back,” she pointed out.

“Luckily, I think we’re past the worst of the Tarapor. We’ll be heading away from the more heavily infested areas from here on out, and I’m hoping we’ll cross back into patrolled territory before nightfall,” he told her.

“So we can cross the river here?”

Nodding, he pointed to the cave behind them with a thumb. “There’s a path behind the waterfall that leads to the other side.”

“That’s good,” she breathed, clearly relieved.

“Yeah, if we had to go any farther north, I don’t think we’d survive,” he muttered grimly.

She nodded, her expression making it clear she had no interest in testing his theory. After a pause, she pointed out, “We still need to catch at least one Tarapor.”

“Maybe I’ll just find the stash without one,” Mefune suggested.

“I thought the whole reason we were doing this is because we couldn’t find it. We don’t have time to look for it, especially not now,” she pointed out.

“I know,” Mefune agreed with a weary sigh.

“Don’t worry about me,” she told him.

“It’s hard not to,” he told her before he could stop himself. “You scared me last night. I don’t want to lose you to those creatures.”

Giving him a weary smile, she told him, “I’ve got you to keep me alive.”

He shook his head slightly. “You put way too much trust in my skills.”

“I think you underestimate yourself,” she countered. Then she sighed. “You’re probably right, though. I don’t know how much more fighting I’ve got in me, not for the next couple days. I just don’t like the idea of giving up. Of letting Samar win.”

“Neither do I,” Mefune readily agreed. He paused, thinking for a minute. “I’ll just catch one on my own. We’ll keep going, make it as close to base as we can by daylight, and then when night falls, I’ll find a nest.”

“So, it’s back to you facing the Tarapor on your own then,” she said with a frown.

He nodded slightly. “I think that would be our best plan.”

She shook her head. “The whole reason I came with you was to keep you from doing something so reckless.”

“I’ll be careful,” he reassured her.

“It’s still stupidly dangerous! I can’t lose you either,” she pressed.

They paused for a moment, Mefune surprised by her statement, and both of them stuck on the problem it presented. Eventually he sighed. “I don’t know what else to do.”

She debated it for a moment, her lips pressed together in a thin line, clearly not pleased. Eventually, she stated, “I guess…if there’s no other options, we’ll do what we have to.”

“If we find a group before dark, we might be able to catch them by surprise,” Mefune guessed. “Their fear will make them scatter, which mean we shouldn’t have to fight too many.”

“That might work, but how are we supposed to find them? I don’t really know where they hide during the day.”

He thought about it a moment. “It’s possible I could sense their auras, use that to track down a group,” he guessed. It wasn’t exactly easy—he had to be relatively close to sense them—but it wouldn’t be the first time he had used that trick. It wasn’t one he relied on heavily, because he didn’t want others to start thinking he had some uncanny knack for finding them. But now that Altaira knew about his aura, there was no reason not to.

“Right, I nearly forgot about that. You think you could find them?” She wondered.

He thought through it, nodding. “It’s not easy. Their auras aren’t strong, meaning I can’t sense them from too far away, and I have to be careful not to use my aura too much while armed. But we know they like to sleep away from the sunlight, so we’ll have an idea of where to look.”

She sighed slightly. “Alright, if you’re sure about this,” she muttered.

He nodded, standing. “I’m sure, trust me.” Then he offered a hand to help her up. “We better get going. We have a lot of ground to cover if we want to make it back tonight.”

She nodded and accepted his help up. He led her into the cave and gathered his things as she did hers, and then he led her to the back of the cave.

They made their way to the back, but as it got darker, Altaira paused. “Geez, it’s dark back here. Do you happen to have a flashlight?”

“No, but I have something better. Hold this, will you?” He asked, handing his sword back to her.

“Why?”

“Can’t have it in hand while I use my aura,” he replied, before bringing it to light around his hand. He blinked a bit to adjust to the bright silver light after the darkness of the cave, before gathering a ball of it in the palm of his hand and letting the rest fade. The remaining orb floated just above his hand, lighting the path ahead easily.

“Right, right. I’ll get used to this eventually,” she said with a shake of her head. He smiled slightly, finding it just a bit amusing how quickly she kept forgetting. She glanced to his sword as they started into the tunnel. “Guess that would explain you always carry this in your hand.”

“Exactly. It’s a habit I picked up from Creta. He had to be extremely careful, since his aura was a lot stronger than mine.”

“I honestly thought it was impossible for someone with an aura to even handle these. The Auraes always made such a big stink about it,” Altaira mused.

“It is pretty dangerous,” Mefune admitted with a shrug. “It’s like walking around with a ticking time bomb. One wisp of your aura touches that metal, and you’re dead, and since Aurae’s auras react so easily to their emotions, it’s easy for an accident to happen. It comes alight when they’re afraid or angry, and it’s over. Creta was just crazy enough to risk it anyway. For me though, it’s not as bad since I hardly use my aura.”

“Huh,” Altaira muttered. “Guess that makes sense.” She paused a moment, glancing sidelong at him, and then carefully asked, “So, why risk it? I mean, if it’s really that dangerous, why did you and Creta choose to join the Brotherhood?”

“Creta wanted to research the Tarapor. He was bent on finding a cure, but the Brotherhood was reluctant to send patrols into the more dangerous parts of the forest just to protect him. So he decided to learn to protect himself and make it work,” Mefune replied.

Altaria nodded. She paused a moment, and then softly added, “And what about you?”

He paused, realizing she had originally asked about both of them, and, like usual, he had directed the attention away from himself. She seemed oddly curious, and he couldn’t blame her. His situation was an odd one.

He debated how to answer, letting out a small sigh as he did. “When…I came to the island, I found I didn’t fit in with the Aurae’s way of life much. I came from a rough place—I honestly don’t even remember the name. It’s not something I like to think about often. Someone suggested I might be happier here. So…” he shrugged. “Here I am.”

“Makes sense,” she mused, nodding slightly as she did.

They approached the other end of the cave tunnel as the roaring of the waterfall became increasingly louder, drowning out any ability for conversation. “We’re right behind it now,” he yelled over the noise. “It’ll be pretty wet once we get outside. Be careful not to slip.”

They crossed out of the tunnel into the early morning light and found themselves behind the waterfall. It roared over the rock above them to their left, surrounded in sheer cliffs all the way down to a small pond below. On the other side of the waterfall was another small plateau, and their way down, they just had to pass behind the waterfall to get to it. The rock surrounding them was dark with water, and the cold mist engulfed them, making Altaira shiver a bit. It wouldn’t take long for both of them to be soaked, so Mefune began carefully picking his way across the gap, wanting to get to the other side as soon as possible.

But Altaira didn’t follow. She stood staring down the sheer drop before them, looking a little uncertain. When he noticed she wasn’t following, he turned back. She glanced sidelong at him, but then her gaze quickly returned to the gaping hole before her. “This might be an interesting moment to mention the fact that I’m terrified of heights.”

“Never would have guessed with how you climbed that cliff last night.”

She chuckled bitterly. “Well, you’d be surprised how much of a motivator a mad horde of Tarapor can be.”

He laughed. “True. Don’t worry though, it’s not as slippery as it looks. If we’re careful, we’ll make it across fine.” He gestured for her to follow, waiting for her to catch up. She steadied herself with a breath and then started after him. Once she was right behind him, he continued forward.

They reached the other side. “Now we just have to climb down,” he told her.

“Right,” she muttered, taking a deep breath as she stepped towards the edge. She stared down at the steep drop for a moment, paling slightly as her lips pressed into a thin line. Then she turned and handed his sword back. He set his bag down and rested the blade against his back, then picked the bag up again.

“You first,” she told him. It wasn’t much of a suggestion, making it clear there was no way she’d be going down first. _She wasn’t kidding about the fear of heights,_ he silently noted.

He nodded and moved to the cliff edge. Along the edge, there were ropes embedded along the side, just as there had been on the other side of the waterfall. Reaching down, he gave the top one a heavy tug, grateful to see it still held. Grabbing ahold of it with both hands, he carefully started to lower himself down the cliff.

“So, who put these here?” Altaira wondered. Her voice shook slightly, and he guessed she was trying to distract herself from the drop as she maneuvered herself over the edge after him.

“Not sure. I stumbled upon them a long time ago. They’re clearly not regularly maintained, but the ropes never wear out. Must be some sort of magic involved,” he told her as they continued down.

“I wonder if it’s an old campsite we just don’t use anymore,” Altaira mused. During the Purge wars, the Brotherhood had set up several locations throughout the forest to give the fighters safe places to rest during the night, when the Tarapor were most active. After the Purges, the Brotherhood had adjusted their patrols to cover the area they felt they needed to continue regularly monitor, and several camp sights had been abandoned in the process.

“Could be,” Mefune agreed.

They fell silent as they climbed. Once at the bottom, Altaira took a second to catch her breath—and most likely relish being on solid ground again—while Mefune glanced around. “Alright, so…the Tarapor aren’t going to be close to the river, so I say we start by heading more south. Just watch for clumps of undergrowth or any sort of overhang they could hide in.”

“Lead the way,” she urged, and so once again, the pair started into the forest.

They walked well into the day, staying silent as they searched, their path meandering a bit but with home always the general direction they kept going in. With his sword now back in its usual location—carried lightly in one hand—Mefune was able to use his aura just enough to allow him to sense any others in the area.

Just as the sun reached its apex in the sky, he paused. Off to their left, he could just sense the half-dead aura of a Tarapor. It had such an odd feeling to it, making it distinctly different than any others.

“There’s a group over there,” he told her, gesturing with his sword.

She paused, glanced that direction. “You sure?”

He nodded, and she looked a bit relieved. It seemed they had some luck left. They changed course, now moving more cautiously. Sure enough, just ahead, he noticed a large clump of trees that had grown closely together. Mixed with the thick underbrush, they made a natural burrow of sorts. He could sense several Tarapor inside, but by how quiet it was, he assumed they were asleep.

They approached carefully. “Sure you still want to face them alone?” Altaira asked, sounding worried.

He nodded. “This group doesn’t seem very big, so it shouldn’t be a problem. Just stick close. You’ll know if you need to help.”

They reached the edge of the clump of trees and peered through to study the small group of Tarapor. It seemed they had been caught in the morning light and had made dens of whatever was around them, leaving many vulnerable. He unsheathed his sword as quietly as he could. Setting the sheath down, he straightened and began to make his way through the underbrush.

Before he could get far, Altaira stopped him by laying a hand on his arm, turning him back towards her. “Be careful,” she requested quietly.

“Of course,” he promised, giving her a reassuring smile.

She nodded. Then a hint of humor entered her gaze, chasing away the worry for a brief moment. “And remember to keep at least one alive.”

Mefune smirked slightly. “I’ll try to remember,” he promised, before turning back to his quarry.

Passing through the underbrush, he appeared behind the nearest Tarapor, melting from the shadows to incapacitate it before it could even wake. The Tarapor nearest him jumped, sensing the movement, and let out a warning hiss that woke the others. Before it could launch at him, he lunged at it and killed it quickly.

Just as he had expected, the Tarapor scattered, but not before a good few attempted to attack him and quickly perished. Silence fell as the den emptied. He straightened from his stance and glanced back as Altaira joined him. Noticing the impressed expression on her face, he couldn’t help but feel a bit pleased.

“The first one I attacked should still be breathing,” Mefune guessed as he gestured to the only in-tact Tarapor amongst the already rotting remains. Altaira nodded and moved towards its unconscious form, Mefune joining her quickly. After making sure it wasn’t at risk of dying from injury, they quickly tied the Tarapor up, including a tight bandana around its mouth to prevent it from being able to bite them. Then they began the long walk home.

Darkness approached much sooner than Mefune would have liked. Luckily, they were farther from Tarapor territory, meaning they had a lot less of a risk of getting swarmed. “We’ve crossed back into the area we patrol,” Altaira pointed out.

“Right,” Mefune agreed, realizing he recognized this part of the forest.

“Shouldn’t there be a camp spot around here somewhere?” She wondered.

“Should be,” he agreed. After some searching, they found one—a small ravine covered with many layers of concealing magic. They tied their unwilling third party member to a nearby tree and slept the night in peace.

After yet another ration bar breakfast, they continued. Finally, as the day grew old once again, the familiar hill where the Brotherhood headquarters was located appeared through the trees.

“Can’t say I’ve ever been happier to see this place,” Altaira said with a relieved sigh.

“Yeah,” Mefune agreed, feeling equally relieved. Then, his thoughts shifted to his plan, and he told Altaira, “You should go find Daya, send her out first to hide somewhere around here. Then find Samar. I’ll wait here with this thing until he comes for it. We’ll have Daya meet us at the overlook afterwards and tell us what she learns.”

She nodded. “See you in a while then,” she stated, before starting up the hill.

It wasn’t long before Daya passed by, giving him a nod in greeting, and then disappeared into the surrounding trees. A while later, Altaira and Samar approached.

Samar grinned as he neared. “You’re timing is perfect; we attack the day after tomorrow.”

“So soon?” Mefune mused, trying to hide his surprise.

“Things are going better than we thought,” Altaira mused, meeting his gaze. Clearly, she understood as well as he did just how close they had come to failing, and how little time they had to release the Tarapor.

“Well, with the injustices we’ve suffered by the Aurae’s hands to motivate the Brotherhood, it hasn’t been hard,” Samar stated.

“I would assume not,” Mefune guessed. “Want help taking this thing wherever you’re keeping them?” He had to ask, though he already knew what the answer would be.

Samar shook his head. “I can handle one Tarapor on my own. I’ll fill you both in on the details of the plan tomorrow morning. Meet me at my office at eight.”

“Sounds good,” Mefune agreed, and then passed their prisoner off to the Council leader.

He joined Altaira, and the pair started back into the base to the overlook, where they planned to wait for Daya. Once there, Altaira sunk wearily onto a boulder that rested up against the base, turning her gaze to the ocean. Mefune settled next to her.

“I’ll be happy when this is all over,” she told him.

“Yeah. Maybe then things will settle down,” he mused. “We can go back to quarreling over nothing whatsoever.”

She let out an amused snort, shaking her head in disbelief. “I think we both know that’s one aspect of our lives that will never go back to what it was,” she assured him. As if to prove her point, she shifted closer ever so slightly.

Time wore on, and Mefune began to grow impatient, worried Daya had ran into trouble. Finally, she joined them, but her expression did little to calm Mefune’s nerves.

“What’s wrong?” Altaira asked as she stood to meet her friend.

“There’s…a ton more than we expected,” Daya replied. “There’s no way the three of us can kill them all.”

Mefune sighed. “I was worried about that. He’s been collected Tarapor for a long time,” he muttered as he stood.

Altaira’s shoulders slumped with exhaustion. “So, what do we do?” she wondered.

They stood in silence as they thought for a moment. “How many would you estimate they have?” Mefune asked Daya.

She shrugged, looking overwhelmed just thinking about it. “Hundreds. Thousands even. A whole army. It’s like they intend to wipe out the Auraes instead of just scare them into submission.”

“I wouldn’t be too surprised if that was actually his goal,” Altaira grumbled.

“Probably,” Mefune agreed with a disbelieving shake of his head. “How is he keeping them contained?”

“A metal cage of some sort. It looked like it was made of the same material as our weapons,” Daya supplied. “It’s just southeast of here, but…I think it’s concealed by magic.”

“What makes you think that?” Mefune wondered.

“I couldn’t see it until I was right on top of it, like the base entrance. I backtracked a couple times to make sure I could find it again,” Daya explained.

Mefune nodded. _Who would have put up a concealment spell over it for him?_ he wondered. He was well aware he was currently the only one amongst the Brotherhood with a functional aura. There were a small handful with weak, unusable auras, like Samar, but definitely none strong enough to create a spell like that. There were the Medics that worked in the infirmary, but because they rotated out regularly, Mefune guessed none of them were around long enough to be swayed to Samar’s cause. Mefune couldn’t see any of them willingly helping him anyway. _Could it be his mysterious contact?_ He wondered. If Samar was using him for magical support, it would explain the need for regular meetings. But, when he and Altaira had listened in on their conversation at the cove, Mefune hadn’t sensed an aura from the stranger. It was possible he was hiding it, though.

Deciding that was a mystery he would have to sort out later, he focused on how to destroy the Tarapor. “Maybe…instead of killing them, we just release them,” he suggested, a plan slowly forming.

“They’re close to Verndale. A lot of them might head for the city,” Daya speculated.

Mefune gave an allowing nod. “Some, but not all. Maybe it would be enough for the four of us to handle.”

“I don’t know, it sounds like it’ll take a whole patrol to protect the city, and since Samar and Ila broke up our alliance, I doubt we could get away with sending a whole group,” Altaira muttered.

“Oh, you guys don’t know about that,” Daya muttered. “Sometime after you left, Jocelyn contacted us. She basically managed to undo what Ila had done. On the surface, our alliance is officially broken to satisfy Ila, but the patrols are still operating and we’re still receiving support. It’s a temporary fix until Jocelyn can get the legal backing she needs to overrule Ila’s decision.”

“Seems not all the Auraes approve with how she’s handling things,” Altaira mused.

“So that means there will still be a patrol guarding the city until right before Samar’s attack,” Mefune realized. “If we give them a heads up, say we saw a bunch moving through the area, they should be able to handle it. Maybe we’ll even send others to reinforce them.”

“We’d have to. They’re going to need all the fighters they can get,” Daya stated.

“I’ll join them. You could too, Daya. And maybe we could convince Garrett, just this once. If we bring others, he might be willing to help,” Mefune guessed.

“Garrett also told me we can trust Desiree. She knows of Samar’s plans but has just kept quiet about it. Now that she knows we’re working to stop him, she wants to help. We could bring her,” Daya suggested.

Mefune nodded. “I’ll come to,” Altaira interjected.

“You sure you’re feeling up to it?” Mefune asked.

Altaira nodded. “There’s no way I’m letting you face that many without me,” she pressed.

Daya raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two, as if noticing the change between them for the first time. While it would have been easy to assume Altaira’s comment was directed to both of them, something made Mefune think she had meant it towards him, and it seemed Daya felt the same.

She glanced to Altaira. “What happened?”

“Long story. I’ll fill you in if we survive tomorrow,” she reassured her.

Daya nodded and then asked, “So how do we go about releasing them?”

Once again, they fell silent as they debated this. “Samar must have had a plan to do that without getting anyone killed,” Altaira guessed.

“Yeah, but we don’t have time to figure out what he had in mind. I doubt he’d just tell us,” Daya pointed out.

“Could we destroy the cage somehow?” Altaira wondered. “Maybe from a distance so we wouldn’t have to interact with the Tarapor?”

“That might work,” Mefune agreed as an idea dawned on him. “The Auraes have a spell for breaking down any extra metal left over from creating our weapons. If we could get ahold of one of those, we could basically collapse the cage and let the Tarapor run free. We could even have it created to break down at a slower rate, so then someone could start it and be long gone by the time the spell took full affect.”

Altaira nodded. “This is starting to sound possible,” she mused.

“How do we get ahold of one of those spells?” Daya wondered.

“I’ll take care of it,” Mefune dismissed easily, earning a knowing glance from Altaira.

“Okay…when do we do this?” Daya wondered.

“Samar said he’ll fill us in on his plan tomorrow morning. It might be a good idea to wait until at least after then so we can make sure there aren’t any details we’re overlooking. That’ll also give us the chance to gather some reinforcements for the patrol. So…tomorrow night.”

Daya nodded. “I’ll tell Garrett so he’ll be ready.”

Altaira nodded. Then, she let out a heavy sigh. “If that’s everything, I’m going to go take a shower and sleep in a real bed,” she decided.

Mefune chuckled. “Yeah, you’ve earned that.”

“So that means I actually have to wait until morning to hear the details of this little adventure you two went on?” Daya asked, pouting a little.

“Yes,” Altaira stated bluntly, earning a disappointed huff from her friend. “But it’ll be a better retelling if we wait until I’m coherent anyway.”

Daya gave an allowing nod of her head and then stated, “Fine, fine. I’ll be patient.” Then she grabbed Altaira’s arm and began pulling her inside. “Come. The sooner you go to bed the sooner you’re awake and you can tell me.”

Altaira protested weekly, but then let out a defeated sigh as she shook her head, smiling at her friend’s antics. Mefune watched them go with a smile of his own, amused by the two.


	20. Guardian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mariea, Bracken, and Mae encounter a mysterious foe.

** Chapter Twenty **

** Guardian **

_** Mariea ** _

Walking through the jungle, Mariea wiped the sweat from her forehead again, quickly hating how muggy it was under the trees. It made her wish for her island home, where the weather was cooler by far. Usually, she would use her aura to keep her comfortable, but for some reason, she was reluctant to call it to light; the feeling of apprehension from last night hadn’t left since crossing under the trees. For some reason it made her oddly defensive of her aura.

They took a break after another half hour or so of hiking. Grateful for the rest, Mariea took the opportunity to pull her hair up into a bun. The humidity and heat made it wild and frizzy, but finally, she managed to get it away from her face. Sadly, the resulting effect was not as dramatic as she had hoped—she was still way too hot. As she took a drink from her canteen, she found it to be as disappointingly warm as everything else. _Geez, this is ridiculous. How did Elinore survive in all the layers they wore back in her day? And it’s only April._

Bracken let out a heavy sigh as he lowered his canteen, running a hand along his forehead in a futile effort to remove the sweat. Then his brow furrowed in confusion as he tilted his head to one side. “What’s this?” he mused, taking a few steps into the jungle.

It took Mariea only a moment to realize what he was talking about. Before them was a barely noticeable cobblestone path and wooden structures that looked like the remnants of buildings. The wood protruded from the jungle randomly, but Mariea could still tell they were on some sort of street. “I think…this is actually the edge of the settlement. Maybe it was further into the trees than I thought?” she wondered.

“Hmm. Well, obviously there was something here once. I guess this is as good as anywhere to start looking,” Bracken decided.

The three moved forward cautiously, Mariea leading them down the former street. Once they were farther into the settlement’s remains, the ground sloped upward to the right slightly, and Mariea felt a wave of nostalgia. “The houses were mostly built on that hill. The city center is that way,” she explained, pointing to sections of the jungle. More recognizable structures surrounded them now, but they were still hardly buildings. Mariea realized the dark black color of the wood wasn’t from exposure, but from a fire. _That would explain why there’s so little left of the town. What happened?_ She wondered.

When they reached the town center, she looked around at the vaguely familiar square. The fountain that had once been there still held water, its basin thickly covered with moss, but the statue adorning it was gone, and so were most of the buildings around it. The cobblestone was now easier to see as it poked through the thick underbrush. Though few trees had grown in the square, it seemed it wouldn’t be long before the jungle reclaimed it entirely. Mariea could imagine the square—even see it if she just closed her eyes—at its prime, bustling with activity. Now it sat in hallowed silence, the lingering taste of sorrow and pain almost palpable.

“A lot of people died here,” Mae muttered, her arms wrapped tightly around her, pain in her green gaze as she scanned the dilapidated square. Tears built in her eyes, and she glanced away, her crimson hair falling to hide her face as she attempted to compose herself.

Mariea blinked in surprise, amazed by how much the place was affecting Mae. “Are you okay?” She asked, taking a step closer.

When Mae seemed too upset to answer, Bracken supplied one for her. “Medics are especially sensitive to the passing of fellow Auraes. They can sense it like you and I can sense auras. It can be…upsetting, if they aren’t prepared for it.”

“Oh,” Mariea muttered, a bit surprised. She hadn’t known that little detail about Medics.

“But this is so potent even I can feel it,” Bracken added, frowning. Mariea nodded slightly, realizing it must be what was responsible for the unnerving feeling that had haunted her since crossing into the jungle.

The three fell silent, as if they were all reluctant to break the eerie peace after such a realization. They took a moment to respect the people that had passed, if only to appease whatever it was that caused their pain to linger.

Mariea sighed. “I need to know what caused this,” she stated, a hint of desperation in her voice. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but worry she was looking at a possible future for her own home.

“So, we have to keep going?” Mae asked, clearly reluctant.

Mariea glanced to her, wondering just how much she could handle if they continued to linger in such a place. “Only if you’ll be okay,” she told her.

Mae stayed silent for a moment, before nodding, her gaze on the ground. “I’ll be fine. I know how to block it out, I just wasn’t ready for this.”

Mariea nodded, turning her gaze to the remnants of the settlement. “Then we’ll keep going. We have to figure out what’s going on,” she decided.

They started forward again, picking their way around the fountain and farther into the square. Beyond it, it seemed some buildings had been spared from the fire that had claimed most of the settlement, and many of them still stood. The impression of being on a street strengthened as they started into the more intact area, even if it was an eerily empty street.

They hadn’t traveled far when suddenly she sensed something that made her stop abruptly—there was an aura nearby, and a powerful one too. A shiver ran down her spine as she contemplated the source of power, amazed by its presence and the fact that she was just now noticing it. She glanced around nervously, trying to identify whatever it was she was sensing.

Bracken bumped into her, glancing at her in surprise. “Something wrong?” he wondered when he noticed her expression.

“We’re not alone,” Mariea muttered, her aura appearing in thin wisps as she prepared to defend herself. She wasn’t sure why, but she instinctively feared the source of the aura, knowing it wouldn’t be friendly.

“Wait, what happened to there not being anything living on the island?” Mae quickly protested.

“I think we’re about to find out why there isn’t,” Mariea replied warily.

“Well,” a voice stated just before a lone figure stepped from the shadows of a nearby ancient structure. His silvery hair and youthful face were an interesting contrast, but what drew the most attention were his bright green eyes. There was something distinctly off about him, and despite not being able to decide exactly what it was that bothered her, it left Mariea uncomfortable in his presence.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve encountered Auraes here,” he continued. “Especially after what happened.” His voice carried an odd accent Mariea couldn’t quite place but felt was vaguely familiar. His metallic purple aura surrounded him, and as Mariea watched him, it was quickly evident he was the source of the power she had felt moments earlier.

“What do you want?” Bracken demanded, his gaze narrowed in suspicion, his own deep umber aura surrounding him.

“Nothing, actually. It intrigues me to know why you bothered returning here, after so many years, but I unfortunately have other orders. Besides…” slowly, his grin turned wicked, and his aura came to full light around him. “I haven’t had a good fight in so long, and you two have quite the strong auras. This should be fun.”

Mariea’s gaze narrowed, her aura coming to full view around her as it reacted to her sense of danger. Most of what he said left her confused, but his purpose was clear enough. “Mae, get out of here,” she ordered, knowing the Medic wasn’t trained to defend herself.

“Right, just…don’t get yourself killed. I’ll be nearby,” she informed them as she backtracked slightly, her gaze on the newcomer.

“Leaving so soon? Bummer,” he stated. “Don’t worry, I’ll find you after I’m finished with these two.” With that, his aura briefly flared brighter as a wave of energy burst away from it and shot towards them. Luckily Bracken was already reacting; a shielding spell hardened between them long before the attack reached them, deflecting it easily.

Mae hurried away, but Mariea was too occupied with keeping ahead of her enemy’s attacks to worry about her anymore. As Bracken deflected another stream of energy, Mariea darted around him and attacked from the side, her own power rippling through the air in a bright flash. To her surprise, the stranger deflected it almost casually, looking bored. _Who or what is this thing?_ She wondered.

They exchanged shots for a while, before the man paused, letting out a small annoyed huff. “This is boring,” he complained, and then blinked from existence.

Mariea came to a halt, her aura sparking with energy around her as she stared at the spot he had once been in bewilderment. Seconds passed in silence, and then a dark shadow grew where he had stood, surrounded by the same deep purple of his aura.

As Mariea watched in stunned silence, a beast reared up before them, something like she had never seen before. It grew in height, towering over them, its giant mouth sliding open to reveal brilliant white teeth, the canines long and deadly. Great leathery wings appeared against the creature’s arched back, though they were so torn and full of holes, Mariea doubted it was capable of flight, if it ever had been. A long tail slapped the ground, sending shudders through its surroundings. The obsidian scales reflected the sunlight dimly, as did the claws that dug deep grooves in the road. Eerie green eyes stared down at them with slit pupils, and Mariea was certain the beast was grinning at them.

“Is that…a dragon?” Bracken whispered, staring up at the beast in fear and wonder.

The creature opened its mouth wider, and flames poured from its jaws. Mariea reacted in the split second before the flames reached them, gesturing upwards with a hand as her aura glowed brighter. A wall of ice appeared between them and the flames. The ice instantly transformed to steam against the flames with a hiss, briefly surrounding them in a blinding cloud of white.

As the steam cleared, Mariea realized the beast had closed the distance between them and raised a giant paw to smoosh them, moving incredibly fast and quiet for its size. She and Bracken broke apart. Mariea was knocked off her feet as the dragon smashed its foot against the ground with a heavy thud.

Taking advantage of their vulnerability, the dragon tried to torch Bracken, but he managed to defend himself with a shielding spell. Mariea pushed to her feet and sent an angry wave of earthen spikes into the creature’s side. They shattered harmlessly against its scales, but it drew its attention back to her long enough for Bracken to recover.

The beast seemed to contemplate them for a moment, then it charged at Bracken, moving so fast it was hard for Mariea to follow. Simultaneously, it sent a blast of power her way, strong enough she knew her aura wouldn’t be able to deflect it. She dove into the remnants of the building behind her as the magic passed over, stinging her skin as it went.It shattered the top half of the wall she hid behind, raining her with debris and dust, making her cough a bit.

She pushed the wreckage aside, grateful nothing heavy had fallen on her. Still, she felt several small cuts and bruises across her arms and shoulders. She turned back to the dragon quickly, not wanting to give it a chance to attack her while she was down. It seemed focused on finding Bracken currently, but it had already proven it could multitask quite well. As she raised her hands, a boulder formed from the rubble, and then blue flames leapt to life across its surface before it slammed into the dragon. It stumbled a bit but didn’t seem to notice, as if she had bumped it. Clearly, the flames did no harm.

The dark creature’s tail swung towards her, but she saw it coming just in time to dodge out of the way. Before the beast could swing its tail back towards her, an umber colored shell formed around it, pinning it to the ground. Mariea spared a glance to her left, finding Bracken poking out from behind a wall, his aura surrounding him as he muttered spells under his breath. There was a cut on his forehead that was bleeding, but other than that, she was relieved to find he seemed alright. She hurried to him, stepping over the dragon’s pinned tail as she reached his side. They carefully backed away from their enemy as it yanked its tail free, shattering the spell.

Bracken frowned. “That wasn’t supposed to be breakable,” he grumbled as they crouched in the shadows of a building.

“Yeah, well, you saw how well my magics are working against it,” Mariea griped. “What do we do?”

“Run?” Bracken suggested.

“We can’t leave the island yet. There are still answers here,” Mariea reminded him.She paused a second to redirect more flames, and they scrambled to a new hiding spot, feeling much like she was being hunted by the dragon.

“And I get the feeling, now that he knows we’re here, he isn’t going to just let us leave,” she finished.

Bracken sighed. “I knew you would say that. How do you intend to fight it then?”

“It has to have a weakness,” she muttered, her mind racing for solutions.

The dragon spotted them again and sent fire their way, but Mariea pressed her hands together before her and the fire parted at her fingertips to pass on either side of them. Then, she harnessed the last of it as it trailed past her, bending it back behind them to shoot towards the dragon. It smacked against its scales and disappeared as if she had thrown feathers at it. Luckily, it at least blocked them from view for a few moments, and the pair took advantage of the distraction and bolted down a side street.

“This is going great,” Mariea joked sarcastically as they ran.

“Just wonderfully,” Bracken agreed, carrying on her sarcasm. “Have you tried piercing the scales?”

“Yeah. No luck,” she replied. The dragon suddenly appeared on their left, sending more fire at them. They scrambled back, nearly tripping over themselves and each other as they careened around a corner, barely escaping the flames.

Bracken suddenly grabbed her arm and yanked her into the trees, hiding in the shadows of a large palm. Peering back into the town, he watched for the dragon. “I think it’s scales are enhanced by magic. That would explain why you can’t break them and why my spells keep collapsing against them. We’ll have to try something stronger,” he suggested over his shoulder.

“Like what?” Mariea wondered. “I don’t exactly have a wealth of strong sharp objects laying around.”

In response, he opened his palm and muttered a quick few Shidokian phrases. A sword made of his aura formed in his hand, and then hardened. “Maybe something like this?” he stated as he offered it to her. “Here. I’ll distract it, you try stabbing it. Go for a vulnerable spot.”

Mariea glanced down at the sword, the very idea of approaching the beast sending shivers down her spine. Then her mind registered the other half of his suggestion, and her gaze snapped up to him. “No, you’re not going to act as bait,” she denied quickly.

“What else are we supposed to do? You need it to focus on something other than yourself. I’ll be fine, I promise,” bracken reassured her.

“You can’t promise that,” she corrected.

He rolled his eyes slightly. “Well yeah, but still. I’ll be careful at least.”

Mariea bit her lip, her hand closing around the hilt of the sword. “You better be,” she told him forcefully.

“I will. That I can promise.” Then he straightened and charged out of their cover.

Mariea heard the dragon’s growl as Bracken called out to it, and heard its claws scrambling across the ground. She took in a shaky breath, hoping Bracken was okay, and then started after them, trying to approach from behind.

She rounded around a dilapidated building and discovered the dragon standing in the street beyond, its tail pinned under some rubble, a spell wrapped around its mouth and its wing tips pinned to it hind legs with more magic. It growled in annoyance as it struggled to free itself, but Bracken kept adding more spells as she watched.

Deciding to not let it get a chance to free itself, Mariea rushed to its side, raising the blade and slashing it across the beast’s stomach.

To her dismay, the sword shattered in her hand as it ground across the scales with a sickening screech. The dragon let out another growl as the magic surrounding its jaw broke free, smoke billowing from its jaws at it exhaled. Mariea backpedaled, hoping Bracken did the same. Ducking behind a wall, she barely managed to avoid the stream of flames, the heat making her raise an arm and squint to protect her face.

When the flames dissipated, she glanced around the wall, noticing Bracken had once again drew its attention; it snapped at him as he deflected it with more barrier spells, creating artificial walls to dodge behind. Turning her gaze to where she had passed the blade along the beast’s side, she frowned when she noticed she hadn’t even broken the scales. But there was a long, thin scratch, barely noticeable.

Her gaze passed over the dragon, searching for a weak spot. The scales were too hard to pierce, but she was sure if she could find a softer spot, the dragon would be vulnerable to her magic. As her gaze trailed to the back of the beast’s head, she suddenly found the weakness she needed; tucked underneath the long fins behind its eyes, there was a small fleshy spot, usually hidden by the fins but left exposed to Mariea’s angle. But now she just had to get herself to it.

Glancing around, she looked for something to climb on, and then turned her gaze upwards to the building she hid behind. With help from her aura, she climbed the weary walls, making it to the roof. With little thought for whether or not it could still hold her weight, she hurried across the space to the opposite ledge and the dragon.

Just as the fight came into view again, the beast managed to yank its tail free of the rubble across the street. It thrashed to her side fast enough that when it smacked into the building she stood on, it easily plowed throw the weakened walls. The building fell from underneath her seconds before she jumped from the roof. She flew through the air, falling short of her goal of landing on the creature’s back. Slamming into its side, she felt it flinch away from her as she slid down its scales, but before it could dislodge her, she managed to dig her fingers in between the scales, jolting to a stop that sent pain flaring through her hands and shoulders.

The dragon let out growl as it glanced over its shoulder at her, its acidic gaze glowing with annoyance. Bending its neck back, it snapped at her, its lips brushing her side as its jaws closed a fraction of an inch from her side. Mariea shuddered, closing her eyes briefly as she let out a gasp of fear. But, as she realized she had escaped unscathed, she also realized the beast had given her a footstool. Acting quickly, she pushed off of its mouth with a foot, gaining momentum. Then, with a blast of air, she jolted herself upward, grabbing on to the base of the creature’s wing above her. With all of her strength, she managed to pull herself up into the small crook between its body and the wing, even as it gave a violent shake to try and dislodge her. She clung to the base of the wing, barely managing to stay put.

Umber colored magic flashed past her, and the dragon turned away from her just long enough to send more fire Bracken’s way. Mariea reached up and pulled herself farther onto its back, grabbing onto the ridge of spikes along its spine. Quickly realizing she had no way to hold on once she was up there, she found herself precariously crouched on its back, uncertain of how to proceed.

Bracken glanced upwards, noticing her crouched on the dragon’s back, and looked relieved. But in that brief moment of distraction, the dragon sent more fire towards him. Without time to completely finish a spell to protect himself, the fire broke through the magic, and he disappeared behind the blaze. Mariea stared in horror, waiting for the flames to dissipate, but she couldn’t see him through the smoke.

Tears built in her eyes as her hands shook with shock. Her nightmares were coming true, despite all she had tried to do. But before she could lose herself to the despair, she shook her head, wiping the tears away furiously. She had to believe Bracken was still alive, or she wouldn’t be able to finish what she had come to do—and if he was alive, he would need a distraction to escape.

The dragon shook again, reminding Mariea of her own predicament. She slipped andnearly slid back down the dragon’s slide, but she miraculously managed to cling to the dragon’s side until the shaking stopped. She drug herself onto the dragon’s back again, breathing heavily as she kept her gaze on his head, ready for it to try and shake her off again.

When it did, she used carefully timed bursts of air magic to keep her balanced, and somehow managed to stay aloft on the shaking beast. In response, it turned and snapped at her, but it couldn’t bend its neck back enough to reach her.

Remembering the phrase Bracken had spoken moments before, she mimicked his magic and created a long dagger, the metal tinted a metallic blue. She launched forward, running the short distance along the spine of the dragon. She barely managed to keep her footing but couldn’t bring herself to care enough to slow down. 

Obviously feeling Mariea’s movements, the dragon renewed its efforts to shake her off, but her determination refused to allow her to fail. She stumbled often but managed to keep her pace, the deadly dance making her heart race.

Luckily, she didn’t have far to travel; she reached the base of the neck after only a few steps. At this point, she knew she had precious seconds before the dragon figured out what she was doing and how to get rid of her. She crouched, waiting for a good angle on her target. As she did, the scales below her began to buzz with power, stinging her fingertips, and she couldn’t begin to guess what was about to happen. Deciding she didn’t want to stick around long enough to find out, she launched herself forward and smashed the knife down into the vulnerable gap in its scales, burying it to the hilt. With nowhere to land, she was jerked free when its head jolted upward, and she fell, landing hard on her ankle.

The beast let out a pained roar and its legs gave out. Mariea managed to crawl out of the way just in time as it fell, and then collapsed to the ground inches away from its shoulder. Her ankle throbbed, and she figured she had broken it. But she had won. She lay with her eyes closed for a few seconds, desperately trying to catch her breath.

Then she remembered Bracken and forced herself upwards despite her body’s protests. Mae appeared at her side, helping her to her feet. “Bracken,” she gasped, wanting to tell Mae to help him instead, but she didn’t have the energy to form the words properly.

“He’s alright, I moved him out of the way,” Mae told her. The pair hobbled to the edge of the road, where Bracken leaned against a tree. Fresh bandages covered one arm, but Mariea was simply relieved to see he was alive. She pushed away from Mae, half falling to reach him.

When she collapsed at his side, he caught her in a one-armed, tight hug. “I thought you were crushed when the building collapsed,” he muttered.

She let out a relieved half chuckle, half sob, burying her face in his shoulder. “I thought I told you to be careful,” she muttered as she turned to look up at him.

“I tried,” he said, shrugging apologetically and then wincing as he moved his bandaged arm.

Mae collapsed next to them, looking tired. She too bore a few bandages, making Mariea wonder what had happened. Bracken glanced to the Medic. “If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t be alive. She jumped in the way and managed to deflect enough flames we both survived, and then dragged me out of the way while the dragon was distracted.”

The Medic gave a small, weary smile. “What else am I here for?” she mused. “Mariea, I think you broke your ankle.”

“Figures,” Mariea grumbled, turning towards her. But she couldn’t get herself to move away from Bracken, and he seemed reluctant to let her, so instead Mae moved to them and quickly examined the ankle, before bandaging it.

“It’ll heal alright, but you should stay off of it the rest of today,” Mae urged.

“The rest of today? We don’t have time for that,” Mariea protested.

“Honestly you shouldn’t be walking on it at all for the next couple of days, but I’ll do what I can for it,” Mae clarified. “My aura’s exhausted so there’s no way I can heal it today. I’ll try again tomorrow.”

Mariea sighed and nodded, disappointed, but she had to admit they were incredibly lucky. Somehow, they had all survived, and she guessed it was only because their enemy had been too cocky to kill them quickly.

“Hey, we might want to move,” Bracken interjected. Mariea glanced to him, and then followed his gaze to the body of the creature they had fought. Oddly enough, it was beginning to bloat, a dark orange light emanating from underneath its scales, like molten lava about to spill through the cracks.

“That might be a good idea,” Mariea mused as she struggled to climb to her feet.

Mae managed to stand, and then pulled her up. Bracken climbed to his feet and started away, gesturing for the two women to follow. Mariea grimaced as she struggled to hurry, her injured ankle protesting.

The three had only traveled a few feet when a loud boom echoed behind them. Mariea glanced back to see a ball of orange flames shoot upward from the dragon’s corpse, quickly engulfing everything around it. Mae cursed under her breath and picked up the pace, dragging Mariea with her.

“Over here,” Bracken suggested, gesturing to an ancient brick wall that looked sturdy enough to survive the blast. He hurried back to them, and between him and Mae, they practically carried Mariea behind the wall. The blast rushed past, collapsing several weak structures around them, before silence fell over them again.

Carefully, Mariea glanced around the wall to where the dragon hand been. Fires had started on some of the underbrush, but nothing too major. With how wet the underbrush was, she was sure they wouldn’t burn for long. Then she turned back to her comrades, glancing over them quickly to make sure they were all still okay.

When she was sure they would all survive, she let out a relieved sigh, her shoulder slumping in exhaustion. “Well. That was interesting.”

“We all survived at least,” Bracken mused.

Glancing upward, Mariea took into consideration what time it was; the sun was beginning to set. Then she turned towards the smoldering town. “Let’s make our way to the outskirts, and then take a break for the rest of the day.”

Everyone seemed more than willing to agree to this. They started for the edge of what was left of the settlement, moving at a painfully slow pace. Glancing over her shoulder, Mariea couldn’t help but wonder, _what was that thing, and where did it come from?_

When they found a spot to rest, Bracken glanced to her, and then back to the city. “It almost sounded like whatever that was didn’t want us to be here. Like it was some sort of guardian or something,” he mused, his brow furrowed in thought. “It makes me wonder if it didn’t have something to do with what’s going on back at home.”

“Guess it doesn’t matter; it’s dead,” Mae pointed out.

“I don’t know about that,” Bracken disagreed with a shake of his head. “It said it ‘had orders.’ Someone powerful enough to order that thing around…”

His voice faded away, but he didn’t need to finish that sentence. A tense silence fell over the three as they all contemplated what that could possibly mean. Mariea glanced back to the city once more, for the first time wondering if she wasn’t in way over her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a fun chapter. Hopefully you enjoyed it as much as I did. Let me know what you thought!


	21. Response

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Altaira, Mefune, and friends attempt to deal with Samar's plans.

** Chapter Twenty-One **

** Response **

_** Mefune ** _

Mefune waited in the darkness before the city, the patrol gathered around them. Most seemed relaxed, comfortable in the idea the Tarapor wouldn’t venture so close to Verndale. Through carefully timed orders and misdirection, they had managed to gather a significant number of extra fighters without any of them really knowing who had given them the order to be there. Mefune could only hope nobody would question their absence back at base, or how they conveniently showed up to back the patrol right when they needed it. For once, he was grateful for the chaos the Tarapor created, hoping it would be enough to cover their involvement in the process.

Among them were the few that actually knew what was happening—Mefune, Garrett, Altaira, and Desiree. Though they tried to blend with the crowd and give no indication of uneasiness, Mefune could see the tension in the way they couldn’t quite sit still, and their hands never strayed far from their weapons.

Verndale was quiet behind them. It was well after midnight, the early morning hours approaching steadily. Darkness still surrounded them, but the sky along the eastern horizon had turned a deep blue instead of the black of night, hinting at the coming dawn. Daya had volunteered to set the spell to release the Tarapor, and then planned to head to them and ‘raise the alarm’ of the coming enemies. All they had to do was wait for her arrival.

Altaira sat next to Mefune, her gaze searching the forest for her friend. After a moment, she let out a heavy sigh as she leaned forward to rest her elbows against her knees. Taking in her expression, Mefune noted how nervous she looked. “Hey,” he muttered, nudging her arm gently to draw her attention. She blinked and looked up to him. “You okay?”

She forced a smile, more for those around them than anything. “Yeah, just…thinking.”

“Tonight should go well,” he told her, getting as close as he could to directly reassuring her without revealing his foreknowledge of the coming attack.

She nodded slightly. “I figure it will,” she agreed lightly, but her expression said otherwise. She was still clearly worried.

Because of the circumstances, Mefune knew there wasn’t much more he could say to reassure her, so instead he took her hand and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “Whatever happens, we’ll survive it, just like we have the rest of this week,” he muttered softly.

She smiled slightly, nodding. “And then we should do something entirely boring.”

Amused, he asked, “Like what?”

“I don’t know. Literally anything that doesn’t involve Tarapor. And ration bars.”

He chuckled. “I’m down.”

“Well, I have to say I like this better than you two fighting,” a new voice stated behind them. Altaira jumped and twisted to see who had approached as Mefune glanced over his shoulder. Daya stood behind them, her arms crossed against her chest, looking pleasantly surprised as she studied them.

“Later,” Altaira commanded. The darkness made it hard to tell for sure, but he could have sworn she was blushing a bit. “Have you told the patrol leader yet?”

Daya shook her head. “I was on my way there when I got distracted by something I thought I’d never see,” she teased.

“Daya,” Altaira griped, glaring at her. Daya chuckled and hurried off before Altaira could scold her more.

As she disappeared, Altaira let out a sigh, her somber mood returning. “I guess this means the Tarapor are on their way here.”

“Yeah,” Mefune replied, standing.“Have to say I’m grateful the wait’s over, though.”

It wasn’t long before the silence of the night was shattered by the patrol scrambling to prepare as the alarm was raised. Campfires were put out, and those that were sleeping were roused. Weapons drawn, they gathered along the city’s edge, while scouts moved into the forest to search out the coming Tarapor.

“You’re sure they’re headed this way?” the patrol leader asked Daya as the pair moved towards the head of the group. Mefune recognized Amara, one of the older Brotherhood members still actively participating in patrols.

Daya nodded. “They weren’t far behind me. I barely made it here in-tact,” she replied, managing to sound sufficiently effected by her apparent mad dash through the forest. Mefune couldn’t help but smirk a bit at that.

A cry of warning echoed from the western edge of the patrol, and the rest of the group quickly shifted that way. Sure enough, from the forest poured frenzied Tarapor, caring little for the weapons held by their intended victims. They flew mindlessly at the patrol, even as several died.

Altaira and Mefune joined the fight as the rest of the patrol did. The stream of Tarapor seemed just as endless as Daya promised, and their desperation made them a formidable foe. Maybe even more so than usual. Mefune kept close to Altaira, knowing she was till healing, but she proved to him once again she was more than capable of handling herself.

Suddenly Amara appeared next to Mefune. “A handful got past us; they’re headed into the city.”

“I’ll take care of them,” Mefune offered. Glancing to Daya and Altaira, he motioned for them to follow. They broke from the main fighting, pushing their way through the crowds to the city proper.

It was easy at first to find where the Tarapor were breaking through the patrol and into the city. The three helped reinforce the line, until the patrol regrouped and they pushed back the beasts.

“Do we know if any got farther than this?” Altaira wondered, glancing through the darkened streets. She was sure if any of the Auraes were out, the Tarapor would quickly find them.

Mefune glanced back to the fighting, assessing the situation. It seemed the patrol had the situation under control, at least for now. “Amara made it seem they had. We better check. The last thing we need is for the Auraes to wake to a few stragglers.”

Altaira and Daya nodded, so the three started into the streets.

“How are we supposed to find them?” Daya wondered. This area was mostly residential, and the houses were all dark, leaving only the occasional streetlight to dispel the shadows.

Altaira glanced to Mefune, clearly wondering if he would be able to sense them—which he normally would be able to, but with so many auras around, it was nearly impossible to sort through them. Besides, when he was around so many who could sense his aura, he was much more reluctant to use it.

“We’ll just have to keep looking until we’re sure they’re all gone,” Mefune replied.

Suddenly a Tarapor launched at them from the darkened alley to their right. Altaira dove out of the way as Mefune raised his blades to meet it, killing it quickly.

But none of them noticed the second Tarapor barreling from the opposite street until it was too late. The beast—which seemed more animal than man, standing much taller than Mefune—barreled into the three, sending Altaira and Daya sprawling as it knocked Mefune to the ground. Snapping wildly, it tried to sink its teeth into his neck, but he braced his hands against each side of its jaw and managed to keep it at bay.

It let out a yelp when Altaira managed to bury her sword between its ribs, and then went limp. Mefune shoved it away and got to his feet quickly. Letting out a frustrated huff, he reclaimed his dropped swords, watching their surroundings for more.

Altaira moved to stand next to him. “You okay?” she asked, her worry clear on her face.

“Bruised, but nothing that won’t heal,” he reassured her with a small smile. “You?”

“Still intact, thankfully,” she confirmed with a nod. “How many do you think made it into the city?”

“Not sure. Let’s keep looking,” Daya stated, reminding the pair of her presence.

They spent a good few hours trailing through the streets but encountered few Tarapor. Eventually, as dawn began to break over the horizon, they made their way back to the rest of the patrol. Despite the odds against them, the damage done was less than he had expected; there were a few severe cases, but most had escaped with minor wounds. Those that were injured were quickly transported to the hospital nearby.

“Well, this probably did little for the Auraes’ opinion of how well we’re handling the Tarapor,” Amara huffed as Mefune and Altaira found her in the chaos.

“The council will handle the mess,” Mefune reassured her. “I’m just glad we mostly survived the night.”

“Where did all these Tarapor come from, anyway?” Garrett wondered as he joined them.

Daya shrugged as she joined them, feinting innocence. “I just noticed them as I was onmy way to the city.”

“Someone should head back to base, let everyone there know what happened here. And thank whoever happened to send us reinforcements,” Amara suggested.

“I’ll head back,” Mefune decided. Daya, Garrett, and Altaira each stated they would come as well. Amara seemed on top of things there, so the group started for headquarters.

“Well, that went a lot better than expected,” Garrett mused once they were far enough away they were out of earshot.

“It’s about time we had some good luck,” Altaira muttered. They all nodded in agreement.

“Think we got away with it?” Garrett wondered.

“I don’t see how Samar would have found out about our involvement,” Mefune mused. “We were careful.”

“Yeah, and everyone I talked to didn’t know to blame us for the reinforcements,” Altaira added.

“There was…one slight complication,” Daya interjected. “It’s why it took me so long to finish my part up. There were guards at the cage; I had to draw them away. There was no way I was going to open it with them there. They would have been slaughtered.”

Mefune frowned at the gruesome idea. “Except for now those guards know you were there,” he pointed out reluctantly.

“I…tried my best not to let them see me,” Daya stated in a weak attempt to reassure them all. It didn’t go over well.

Altaira let out a heavy sigh. “We’ll deal with Samar. If he pesters you, turn the blame against Mefune and I. We can handle him. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I’m not about to blame you,” Daya denied. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Either way, I don’t think this is over yet,” Garrett interjected.

Mefune nodded. “Samar will try and find another way to take his anger out against the Auraes. We’ll have to be ready.”

“It’s back to our original plan then; take out the corruption as fast as we can, before this causes more deaths. We could probably get the Auraes more heavily involved now that there isn’t a direct threat to them,” Daya mused.

Mefune shook his head slightly. “I think that would only hand the situation to Samar. He would use it as an opportunity to rally more to his cause,” he muttered. “That’s why we were originally reluctant to involve the Auraes.”

“Hmm. You’re probably right,” Daya reluctantly agreed.

“You know what I’m looking forward to?” Altaira interjected, smirking slightly. “Seeing Samar’s reaction to losing all his Tarapor. It’ll be priceless.”

Daya chuckled, elbowing her friend. “Leave it to you to find something about this that’s amusing.”

They reached headquarters as the sun finally peaked over the horizon. “I’ll go find Samar, let him know what happened,” Garrett offered.

Stifling a yawn, Daya told them, “Keep me posted on what happens next, alright? I’m spent.” The three agreed, so she headed off to her room. Garrett left not long after, leaving Mefune alone with Altaira.

She let out a heavy sigh. “Glad that’s all over,” she muttered. “It went much better than I expected.”

Mefune nodded, readily agreeing. “If I don’t have to see another Tarapor for a long while, it’ll be too soon,” he muttered.

She managed a weary smile. “Did you forget we fight them for a living?”

“This week may have forced me into early retirement,” he joked.

She laughed, and her amusement seemed to chase away her exhaustion for a moment. Then her laugh faded into a yawn, and Mefune was reminded they had stayed up all night. “I think Daya had the right idea,” she mused.

“I have to agree. I’ll walk you to your place,” he offered.

She nodded, and they started down the halls in companionable silence.

* * *

_** Altaira ** _

As Altaira was preparing for the day the next morning, she heard a knock at her door. Opening it, she discovered Daya. “Got any plans for this morning?” She wondered.

“After last night? No, I’m hoping today will be insane-plan free.”

“Well, how about breakfast with your best friend? Too crazy?” Daya wondered.

“Sounds nice, actually,” Altaira agreed with a smile.

Daya smiled, nodding slightly. “Good. Come. You owe me a story, and you’re not getting away this time.”

Altaira let out a chuckle, shaking her head slightly, but allowed Daya to take her by the arm and lead her to Daya’s apartment. As they walked, she debated what to tell her friend, both equally reluctant to share and curious to find out what Daya would think of everything that had happened.

When they reached Daya’s apartment, she let her in and showed her to the table, where she had eggs, pancakes, and bacon prepared, with milk and orange juice.

“This looks great,” Altaira commented, a bit surprised by how much effort Daya had put into it.

“Well, I figured you haven’t eaten much of substance for a bit, so I figured I’d fix you a good breakfast,” Daya told her as the two sat.

“Thanks Daya,” Altaira told her with a smile. Daya nodded with a smile.

As soon as Altaira was settled, she pressed,“Come on then, spill! What happened?”

Altaira smirked slightly as she shook her head at Daya’s persistence. “Fine, fine,” she muttered. Pausing a moment, she began scooping eggs on her plate as she gathered her thoughts. Her smile slowly faded as she began. “Things went pretty bad, actually.” She proceeded to explain what had happened in as much detail as she could remember. It was all a bit of a crazy blur, punctuated with a few bright moments that she knew she would never forget.

When she came to the retelling of the night they reached the cave behind the waterfall, she hesitated, reflecting on it for the first time. She couldn’t help but dwell on the brief moment they had shared, or how she had fallen asleep essentially in his arms. Since then there was a closeness between them she appreciated but still wasn’t sure she understood.

“So…you made it to the cliff, then what?” Daya pressed. She was sitting on the edge of her seat, her breakfast all but forgotten, despite the forkful of egg she held in one hand.

“Then we slept, found a Tarapor the next morning, and made it back,” Altaria finished quickly, before taking a bite of her pancakes.

Daya eyed her suspiciously, smirking slightly. “That’s clearly not all.”

“What do you mean? There’s nothing else to say,” Altaira denied, sounding defensive even to herself.

Daya’s smirk grew. “Not true. You’re blushing.”

“And you’re ridiculous,” Altaira countered, her attention suddenly entirely glued to furiously cutting her pancakes into tiny pieces. She knew Daya was right—she could feel the heat in her face—but she hated admitting that fact.

Daya laughed, clearly watching her reaction and reading into it way too much. “It was nothing!” Altaira stated firmly.

“You’re starting to realize he might _actually_ be your type, aren’t you?” Daya teased.

“No.”

“Liar. You’re my best friend. We’ve known each other for way too long for you to be able to hide this from me,” Daya chastised, eyeing her with a smirk.

Altaira let out a sigh and abandoned her cutting with the clang of silverware against her plate. “I don’t have time for all that,” she protested with asmall wave of her hand. She tried to sound genuine, but she knew at this point she was grasping at fringe excuses that wouldn’t hold up under Daya’s scrutiny.

“Says who? If this is important to you, you can make time,” Daya countered.

Altaira didn’t bother arguing. She knew she couldn’t defend her point for long. She struggled for another excuse, another reason to deny herself, but she struggled to come up with anything substantial. _Why am I trying so hard to scramble my way out of this?_ She wondered.

Daya sobered slightly as she watched her, and then let out a small sigh. “I…know you’ve been reluctant to date lately. Believe me, after everyone you’ve lost, I think I’d feel the same. But…I don’t think you should let that stand in your way.”

Altaira glanced up to her, meeting her gaze. She realized Daya had hit her true concern dead on, the one Altaira had been skirting the entire conversation. She was trying to escape because she was afraid. This wasn’t the first time she’d been drawn into a potential romance, but she’d always called things off before it had become too serious. She had no interest in growing attached, only to see when life would take them from her.

She shifted in her seat as she went back to pushing her food around her plate for a moment. “I…know.” She finally muttered. Even she wasn’t convinced by the weak response.

Daya considered her silently for a moment, and then shrugged. “I don’t know, I don’t want to push you into something you don’t want. But you two could be good for each other.You’ve suffered a ton of loss in your life. I think it’s only fair you have the chance to gain someone this time around.”

Altaira nodded, though she wasn’t entirely sure she agreed. After her parents, her mentor, several friends throughout the Purges, and, in a sense, her brother, she had a hard time trusting she’d have any better luck this time around. Life didn’t seem interested in being fair or giving her extra chances.

“But please, don’t leave me out of this if things change between you two. I need some good gossip in my life,” Daya added after a pause, clearly in an attempt to lighten her mood slightly.

Altaira scoffed, smirking slightly. “Glad I could provide some entertainment for you.”

After finishing up breakfast, Altaira found she wasn’t sure what to do with herself. For a while now, she and Mefune had met for a little sparring in the morning, but with how crazy last night had been, they hadn’t discussed meeting this morning. Now, she had long since missed their usual rendezvous. She was both equally disappointed and relieved—part of her wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle a conversation with him after the one she had just finished with Daya.

But just because she hadn’t planned anything with Mefune didn’t mean she couldn’t get a little workout in herself, so she made her way outside. Once there, she stood near the entrance, debating what she wanted to focus on.

Before she had decided, a familiar voice stated behind her, “Why am I not surprised to see you here?”

Altaira smiled and turned to Mefune, her heart skipping a beat as so many thoughts crossed her mind at once. “Hey,” she greeted, hoping she sounded and looked more composed than she felt.

He glanced across the room. “Looks like we have the place to ourselves again. Did you have a plan for this morning?”

“Nothing really. Just after the past few days, I couldn’t stand sitting still,” she replied.

He let out a small amused huff. “Yeah, me neither. Even when I _wanted_ to be lazy, I still found it too boring. Well, I’ve been meaning to work on a little hand to hand sparring. Care to join me?”

“Sure,” she agreed.

They easily fell into their usual rhythm, and the familiarity was comforting. The last of her stress melted away, and Altaira found herself relaxing, teasing him easily as they sparred. For most of their rounds, he had her on the defensive as usual, but for once, she didn’t mind. She was just happy to be safe and enjoy herself.

When she found herself pinned in a corner up against the bleachers, he smirked slightly and said, “Well, this is familiar.”

She chuckled. “You going to let me escape this time?”

His smirk took on a mischievous edge. “Mmm I think not. I’m not distracted this time.”

“Darn. Guess the novelty of me smiling instead of scowling has finally worn off,” she lamented.

“Oh no, it hasn’t. I’ve just learned to ignore it. I know your tricks now.”

She struggled for a while to escape, but he was stronger, and she was growing tired. Finally, she announced, “Alright, I give.”

He let out a relieved sigh and shifted to lean against the wall next to her, no longer blocking her path. She collapsed against the wall next to him, equally as tired.

“We should really learn to stop before we’ve beaten ourselves to death,” he mused.

She managed a small chuckle. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Well, I’m not complaining, but I do think we both have jobs to attend to, and we’ve spent most of the day here. If we did this every day we just might get ourselves fired,” he mused.

“It hasn’t been _that_ long,” she denied, unable to believe it.

“It’s three.”

She blinked, glanced up at the sky, and then back to him. He slowly smiled, and then she started laughing as he did.

As their laughing subsided, his gaze found her again. “Nope, definitely hasn’t worn off,” he muttered, almost absentmindedly.

She paused, confused. “What?”

“Sorry, just…thinking out loud,” he muttered as he quickly turned away, and she realized he actually hadn’t meant to voice the thought. He almost seemed embarrassed, something she definitely hadn’t seen from him before. She couldn’t help but feel surprised. What in the world could possibly leave him—of all people—flustered? And it was something about _her?_ There was no way she wasn’t going to press for details.

“What do you mean?”

He stayed silent for a moment, clearly debating whether or not to explain. Finally, he told her, “It was just…” he paused, looking so uncertain, which nearly made her laugh, it was so uncharacteristic of him. “The first time we sparred, I let you get away because I was distracted.”

“By?” She urged, even more confused.

He shrugged slightly, as if desperately trying to make it seem like it was no big deal. “I just happened to notice your eyes are such a fascinating color. I just thought they were dark blue, but I realized they’re actually almost purple. Random, I know, but…they’re pretty.”

She blinked, surprised by the sudden compliment, sure she was blushing. “Well, my brother used to tease me as a kid, said they made me look weird. I’ve never thought of them as ‘fascinating.’”

“They’re beautiful,” he corrected.

She looked to him, realizing just how sincerely he meant it. Considering who was saying it, she decided not to take the compliment lightly. He wasn’t one to throw around meaningless words.

She glanced up, about to thank him, when she met his gaze, and the words were lost to her. He was watching her intently, clearly gauging her reaction, a vulnerability to his gaze she hadn’t seen before. It drew her to him, and she took a half-step towards him.

He shifted closer, tensing slightly with the hyper-awareness often felt during a fight, but there was something softer about this. Reaching up, he brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face, leaning forward slightly as he did. She could almost imagine the space between them disappearing with every breath she took as she waited in silent anticipation.

He moved close enough their foreheads nearly touched, his fingers tracing her jawline until his hand rested against the back of her neck. When his lips found hers, something inside of her exploded with joy, and she realized she had been waiting, ever since that brief moment on the cliff a few nights ago, to see where it could have lead them. It was such a tentative kiss, but it was all the reassurance she needed. She was, in fact, falling entirely in love with him, and she was beginning to think she wasn’t wrong in assuming he felt the same.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. In response, he pulled her closer, all sense of uncertainty gone. She let out a small sigh, content to forget the world and stay in his embrace forever.

But all good things had to come to an end. Across the space, the door to the base opened with a clang, and voices from a rather large group forced their way into the silence of their moment. Altaira gasped and took a step back, looking to the group.

When she realized they weren’t paying them any attention, she relaxed again, relieved. She smiled slightly, glancing sidelong at him. “Guess that’s reality once again trying to remind us it exists. We should probably get back to it.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, but he sounded reluctant to leave. He glanced over his shoulder at the group, looking almost annoyed.

Altaira laughed. “Oh don’t worry, my job won’t keep me busy forever, and neither will yours,” she reassured him.

He turned back to her and gave an allowing nod. “Fine, fine, reality it is then. See you at dinner?”

“I’ll be there.”

He nodded, and then after another pause, he started across the room. Once he was out of hearing range, she let out a sigh and melted against the wall, sure her jello legs wouldn’t hold her for a moment more. _Well,_ she thought as her hand trailed to her lip. _I think I’ll be needing to update Daya._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter took me FOREVER to write because I'm so uncertain of writing romance. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!


	22. Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Brotherhood deals with a major betrayal

** Chapter Twenty-Two **

** Betrayal **

_** Altaira ** _

By mid-afternoon the next day, everyone had heard of what had happened at Verndale and the strange surge in Tarapor activity in the area. The Brotherhood was alive with the news, wondering how the Auraes would react, and where such a large group of Tarapor had come from. It was interesting to Altaira to note who knew of Samar’s plans; their surprise over such a phenomenon always seemed less than genuine.

Samar’s reaction however surprised Altaira. He wasn’t anywhere near as angry as she had expected him to be—in fact, he hardly reacted at all, except to state they would have to reorganize the patrols to compensate for the increased number of Tarapor. It worried Altaira he didn’t seem to care his plan had been thwarted.

But there was a lot to worry about. Altaira was still adjusting to her new duties as part of the council on top of all of her regular duties as part of the Brotherhood, and there was the constant threat that Samar knew who was acting against him, and would retaliate hanging over her head. Mefune continued to keep a close eye on him, and he often told her it seemed Samar wasn’t suspicious, but Altaira was slow to believe they had all gotten away with it.

Two days after they released the Tarapor, Samar ordered the entire council still on the island to gather for an extra patrol. It was rare such a large group was sent out at once, but they were specifically looking to thin the Tarapor’s numbers, not just make sure they were keeping to their territory. After the release of Samar’s gathered stash, the amount of Tarapor near the city and headquarters had swelled to a dangerous number, so it made sense for him to want to thin them out before it could get out of control.

As Altaira made her way outside, she noticed Mefune just starting down the hill ahead of her and smiled. Hurrying to catch up with him, she fell into step next to him and greeted, “Good morning.”

He smiled. “Welcome to another day of Tarapor hunting,” he joked, earning a chuckle from Altaira.

That was something else that was on Altaira’s mind—Mefune. She found herself spending every spare moment with him, for no reason other than she could. And wanted to. It was good to have something to look forward to and enjoy in the chaos that her life had become.

And despite her original trepidation, she was quickly beginning to realize she wanted to see where their budding relationship would go. He seemed to understand almost subconsciously just how nervous she was about it all, because he didn’t push to move things too fast. Either that, or he partially shared in her concerns. She wasn’t sure. But they both seemed content to allow it to develop how it would. She wasn’t even sure what to call their relationship, but she was content with what it was at the moment.

As they reached the bottom of the hill, they discovered they had beat the rest of the patrol. “Hopefully they won’t take too long,” Altaira muttered.

“Yeah. The sooner we get this adventure over, the better,” Mefune agreed. Then he let out an amused huff as he shook his head slightly.

“What?” Altaira wondered.

He glanced back towards the base, making sure they were still alone, and then told her, “I just realized we’re basically cleaning up a mess we created with this patrol.”

Realizing what he meant, Altaira smiled slightly. “I guess that’s only fitting.” Then her smile faded. “Can’t say I’m looking forward to fighting the Tarapor again.” Her wounds from their last little escapade into the forest were almost healed, thanks to a Medic she had visited at the infirmary, but the scars were still a good reminder of what had happened.

Though, good came of those days spent in the forest too, she reminded herself, knowing all too well if it weren’t for that little adventure, she and Mefune wouldn’t be nearly as close as they were. Maybe something good would come of this little venture.

“At least this time they’ll be a whole patrol, not just the two of us,” Mefune pointed out.

“Yeah. That’ll make things easier.” She allowed his words to reassure her slightly, lifting her spirits.

After a time, the rest of the patrol slowly trickled in. Altaira was surprised to see just how many international members were still present; she thought they had left days ago, after her election was final. But, counting them, she found eight of the fifteen council members from beyond the island were still present. She didn’t know any of them well, and she only knew a few of their names. Of those she did know, she quickly realized they all favored Samar. If she had to guess why they were still around, she figured it was so they could reconsider how badly their plan had failed and come up with a new one. Maybe they already had, and that was why Samar didn’t seem so upset about losing his stash of Tarapor. That thought made her frown slightly as her worry returned.

At least their were familiar faces amongst the patrol she knew she could trust. Daya joined her and Mefune, and she noticed Garrett and Desiree nearby. It was nice to know she wasn’t entirely surrounded by potential enemies.

Finally, when Samar joined them and directed them onward, the patrol started into the forest. Altaira stuck close to Mefune, and Daya never strayed far. The forest was surprisingly warm that day, and the sun was bright in a cloudless sky above. After a while, she found her worries melting away as she moved with the patrol, relishing in the sense of familiarity. It was amazing how normal routine events were so much more enjoyable after a week like the one she had just survived. She found herself smiling, enjoying herself despite everything.

Sadly, it didn’t last long. They hadn’t gone far into the forest before they found the first pocket of Tarapor, and the fighting began. They spent the better part of the day trailing after them, resting only when absolutely necessary, working at a grueling pace. Samar seemed determined to mop up the entire mess in one go. On more than one occasion, Altaira wondered if he was silently punishing them for releasing the Tarapor.

They took a break around four, and Altaira found a fallen log to take a seat and find her canteen in her pack. Daya settled next to her, and Mefune sat facing the other direction behind her.

“How much longer do you think we’ll go today?” Daya wondered.

Altaira shrugged as she finally paused in her water chugging long enough to breathe. “Much farther and we’ll have to stay the night in the forest.”

“That’s probably what Samar has in mind,” Mefune guessed.

“But we weren’t planning for an overnight stay,” Daya protested.

“Yeah, he definitely didn’t give us much of a heads up, that’s for sure,” Altaira grumbled in agreement.

“We’ll survive,” Mefune dismissed.

“Most likely because you somehow came supplied for all three of us,” Altaira added.

He allowed a small smile. “Hey, it pays to be prepared.”

“There’s another group up ahead,” Darius announced, appearing from the trees. “Let’s get moving.”

Altaira wasn’t the only one to grumble her exhaustion as they gathered their things and regrouped. Samar waited only long enough for the last member to stand, and then gestured them into the forest. With a sigh, Altaira followed, Mefune and Daya close behind.

They approached the pocket of Tarapor silently, their weapons ready. They outnumbered the group easily, so Altaira figured it would be a quick fight. As they attacked, the Tarapor began to flee almost immediately, as she had expected they would, but the patrol pursued.

Suddenly, as they crossed into a small clearing, they realized the Tarapor had been leading them to another nearby group, and their numbers swelled as the new enemies reacted to the threat. Altaira frowned, feeling a little uncomfortable with fighting such a large group. She tried to close the distance between her and Mefune, knowing it was suddenly crucial to not be fighting alone, but the patrol was already scattered among the Tarapor and it made maneuvering difficult.

Then Daya joined her. “It’s been a while since we’ve fought together,” she mentioned as she cut down a Tarapor and stepped up to stand back to back with Altaira.

“It’s good to have you back,” Altaira greeted. For the longest time, the two had served on the same patrol, before Daya’s time on the council. Sometimes Altaira still missed it. Together, they managed to stay ahead of their enemy much better than if they were fighting alone, watching each other’s backs. _But if I’m here, is Mefune alone?_ Altaira wondered with a hint of worry, scanning the chaos for him as best she could between fights.

Suddenly Samar stumbled into her, almost knocking her off her feet, as a much larger Tarapor stalked after him. Altaira turned on the opponent, realizing it was one of the rare beasts that had once been animal instead of man. After a moment of avoiding its huge, clawed paws, she recognized the deformed, mangy creature as a bear.

Daya joined the fight as well, and despite the beast’s size, they had the upper hand working together. When Samar saw an opportunity, he killed the beast with a decisive final blow, stumbling back as it tumbled towards him. Stepping away from the quickly rotting carcass, he turned back to the fight, as did Daya and Altaira.

Despite the odds against them, the patrol managed to pull through. As the last Tarapor died, the clearing fell silent, the familiar halt after a battle settling over them. Altaira glanced around the clearing, taking in the others with her. One of the members she didn’t know had a bite on her shoulder but managed to survive, and there were a few other wounds throughout the group, but nothing too serious.

“Well, I’m glad that’s over,” Samar sighed from his spot between her and Daya.

“Think that’s the last of them?” Darius asked from nearby, his gaze turning to Samar.

“It is,” the council leader confirmed, his words oddly heavy. Altaira glanced at him, a bit bewildered. How could he know they had killed every last one? Had he been counting, or something?

While she was busy puzzling over his comment, she didn’t notice he never returned his sword to its sheath, nor did any of the others hovering around the clearing. As soon as Daya turned away from Samar to scan the forest, he lunged towards her, his blade raised to attack. She let out a cry of surprise and pain as Samar thrust his blade into her upper back.

Altaira froze, unable to comprehend what she was seeing, as her eyes widened in shock and horror. Samar pushed Daya away unceremoniously, and Altaira watched her fall as if in slow motion. She started towards her, unable to process what was happening, her body growing numb with shock.

Before she made it far, she was yanked back by the collar, strong arms pinning her in place. Her sword fell from her grasp as she was pulled back, leaving her weaponless. She struggled weakly, too dazed to entirely comprehend what was happening, until a cold blade pressed against her neck. 

Altaira stopped fighting, but she strained against her captor’s grip, despite the deadly weapon at her throat. She couldn’t just stand there and let Daya die. “Let me go!” She demanded.

“That’s for betraying me and ruining my plans,” Samar seethed, his voice close to her ear. “Now cooperate, and I might let you live.”

Altaira didn’t respond, her gaze glued to Daya. She heard struggling across the clearing and noticed Mefune trying to reach her, but other council members stepped in his path, refusing to allow him to help. As she watched, helpless to do anything about it, the last of Daya’s life faded. The fight left Altaira and she stared unseeing, her body limp, unable to care. Daya was gone, and she couldn’t even begin to understand why.

It took a long moment for Altaira to realize someone was speaking—first, a voice close. It was her captor again. Then, a familiar voice, one that grounded her. Mefune.

“You know the minute Altaira’s free you’re dead,” Mefune promised, his voice surprisingly steady, filled with a cold anger.

“I guess I’ll just have to keep Altaira close for a while, won’t I?” Samar replied, his words deceptively sweet. He tightened his grip slightly, as if in emphasis of his words. Realizing he must be trying to use her as leverage against Mefune, Altaira scowled, anger rising to clear away the fog of grief for a moment. She wasn’t about to let him use her to hurt more people. Not if she could help it.

Looking up, she found Mefune and met his gaze, hoping he could understand she didn’t want him to bend to whatever Samar was demanding. She had missed that part in her confusion, but she was certain it wouldn’t be good. Then she took in her surroundings, realizing most of the council watched the debate with impassive acceptance, maybe even anticipation, making her realize just how many they were up against. The odds weren’t in their favor.

“So, what will it be, Mefune? The only way we all leave this scene alive is if you agree to help me.” He paused, and Altaira felt him shake his head slightly. “Honestly, I’m surprised this is even a debate. Does she really mean so little to you?” Altaira could imagine him smirking at Mefune as he continued. “Or is she just another one of your games to pass the time?”

Mefune’s expression hardened, and he looked ready to slaughter Samar right then and there, but instead, he turned his sword point downward and jabbed it into the ground. He raised his hands in surrender, and Altaira slumped slightly in defeat, unable to believe he was actually giving in to Samar’s demands. The patrol shifted, seeming surprised he had given up so easily, but now, none dared to approach him. Even unarmed, the anger in his gaze was a clear-cut message he was still very much a threat.

“You know, Samar, you said you didn’t want to make an enemy of me,” he stated softly, his words devoid of emotion. Something about the way he said it sent a chill down Altaira’s spine. She was reminded just how terrifying Mefune could be when he was angry.

He took a couple small steps closer, his gaze still locked with Samar. “There was a reason for that fear. You should have listened to me when I warned you.”

Then, to Altaira’s surprise, his aura surrounded him. Before she had time to contemplate what he intended to do, a similar glow surrounded Samar’s hands before her, but it stayed for only a brief second before quickly pulling towards Mefune.

Samar let out a pained grunt and his grip loosened as he collapsed behind her. Altaira stumbled away from him, giving him no time to recover and the patrol no time to react. Mefune’s aura disappeared and he reclaimed his sword. Splitting it in two, he tossed one blade to her as she slid behind him, and then the patrol swarmed them.

The next few moments became a blur of fighting. Altaira hated killing those she had just spent the day fighting alongside, but the bitter taste of betrayal and pure anger over Daya’s death drowned out any sense of conscience she felt. As she fought, she considered every death an attempt to avenge Daya, but nothing satisfied her. Nothing could ease the pain.

Mefune stuck close, fighting without mercy. He seemed to have lost any sense of respect for the lives he was ending. After what they had tried to do, Altaira could hardly blame him. To her surprise, she discovered they didn’t fight alone; Garrett and Desiree both defended them. After how long they had spent trying to convince Garrett to truly help, it amazed her he was willing to now, and Desiree had hardly been involved in their struggle at all.

But she wasn’t about to question it. The numbers were not in their favor—nine against four. Luckily, not all of their enemies had faired well in the fight against the Tarapor, giving them some advantage.

It ended almost as quickly as it began. Altaira stumbled to a halt as her last enemy fell and she took in the carnage around her. These deaths wouldn’t fade from her memory as easily as the Tarapor did.

Garrett let out a grunt of pain as he knelt at a woman’s side, and Altaira realized it was Desiree. He sighed and shook his head, straightening. “She’s dead,” he muttered, then grimaced as whatever wounds he bore were aggravated by his movement.

Altaira turned to Mefune. There was a superficial wound on his arm, and a few other scrapes and bruises, but other than that he seemed mostly fine. As he sheathed his sword and his anger calmed, his shoulders slumped, and he suddenly looked a thousand years older as the weight of everything that had happened settled on him like a stone. His gaze found Samar in the carnage, and Altaira could have sworn he looked sick. She glanced to Samar, realizing he was dead, and she wondered once again what it was Mefune had done to him.

Then, not far from Samar, Altaira found Daya’s body. Without the anger, there was only her grief, and as the rush from the fighting faded, she was left to process all she felt. Numb again, she approached Daya’s cold form. Her legs gave out as she reached her friend, collapsing to her knees next to her, her borrowed sword forgotten at her side. _I’m sorry,_ she thought as she raised a trembling hand to close Daya’s eyes, unable to handle how lifeless they were.

Daya was gone. In seconds, Altaira’s whole world had collapsed around her. Tears clouded her vision, and she found it suddenly hard to breathe, her heart seeming to seize in her chest. Her tears fell silently, the physical pain almost more than she could bear. She had lost too many and all her grief seemed suddenly compounded in this one last straw. She couldn’t do it anymore. Everything she was, everything she had tried so hard to accomplish, had been towards one goal—protect those she still had from being taken from her. But here she was, once again trying to process why she had to lose someone else.

Then a hand rested on her shoulder, and she jumped slightly, glancing up to see Mefune. His gaze met hers; once bright, it was now dull with a pain she knew they both shared. When he crouched next to her, she shifted closer, searching for comfort. He pulled her close, and she buried her face in the crook of his neck, trying to hide from everything she had lost.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he hugged her close. “It wasn’t supposed to end this way. If I could fix this, I would.” His words were heavy with grief, his voice shaking slightly with unshed tears. Suddenly, she realized for the first time she wasn’t left alone in her grief. Mefune was there for her. Even if it seemed everything was lost, and she didn’t want to keep fighting, he was there. She would cling to that as long as she could.

After a long moment of silence, Garrett asked softly, “What do we do now?”

“Tend to our wounds, burry the dead,” Mefune replied wearily. Realizing she had to function, Altaira forced herself to straighten and stand as she wiped away her tears, but Mefune stayed close. He carefully tended to their few injuries, and then the four got to work burying the fallen.

As they began to take stock of the situation and figure out how best to handle what they had to do, Garrett pulled away, searching through the bodies for any survivors. After a moment, he called, “Darius is alive!”

Mefune hurried to him, and Altaira reluctantly followed. Garrett had stepped around a tree near the edge of the clearing. When they joined him, Altaira noticed Darius at the base of the tree. His breathing was heavy and raddled, and his hands pressed to a large wound in his side. Despite his obvious disadvantage, he glared up at the three with pure loathing.

“Well, this makes our lives a little easier,” Mefune stated, before stepping around Garrett to crouch in front of Darius.

He immediately tried to scramble away from Mefune, a hint of fear replacing his anger, but Mefune raised his hands in a placating gesture. “I’m not going to kill you—you’re too valuable alive. But looking at that wound, I doubt you’ll live long, unless I help you.” He paused just long enough to let this sink in, and then continued, his voice soft. “Now, tell me what you know about Samar’s schemes, and I might find it in me to patch you up.”

Darius seemed to struggle with the idea. “Why should I tell you?” He managed through clenched teeth.

“Well, I could let you bleed out here, if you won’t cooperate,” Mefune stated with a light shrug.

Darius swallowed hard, and then let out a weak cough. “I don’t know anything.”

“Liar. You were Samar’s right-hand man. He told you everything. What was he planning?”

Darius let out a weak chuckle. “I don’t know, all he told us was what he told you.”

Seeing he wasn’t getting anywhere with that question, Mefune asked next, “Who else is loyal to him? What was my part in all of this?”

“I don’t know what he had planned for you,” Darius managed as he tried to sit up straighter but succeeded only in aggravating his wound. He seemed to be getting weaker.

“What about the rest of the council, are they loyal to Samar?” Garrett asked.

Darius shook his head slightly. “Samar…couldn’t convince them. That’s why he sent them away, before today…”

“Is anyone else aware of Samar’s plans? Anyone who might try and act on them?” Mefune pressed.

Darius shook his head. His breathing was growing shallower. “Mefune, he’s going to die,” Garrett pointed out.

Mefune let out a heavy sigh, obviously realizing the same thing. “Swear to me you will confess all you know to the Brotherhood, and I’ll let you live.”

Darius let out a weak, bitter chuckle. “Why bother? They’ll kill me for my crimes. Might as well die here.”

“Suit yourself,” Mefune muttered, straightening.

“Wait,” Darius clamored. “Please. I don’t want to die.”

“You’ll swear it?” Mefune pressed.

Darius hesitated, and then gave a curt nod. Mefune knelt at his side again, meeting his gaze. “You back out on that promise, or do anything harmful to any one of us, and you’ll wish I let you bleed out here,” he promised. “Got it?”

Darius nodded, this time with more vigor, clearly believing Mefune could carry out his threat. Satisfied, Mefune reached for his bag and got to work tending to Darius’ injuries.

_This would be much easier if he could use his aura,_ Altaira realized. Glancing to Garrett, she stated, “He can handle this. We need to get everyone else buried before all this attracts more Tarapor.”

Garrett hesitated a moment, and then nodded and followed after Altaira, back to the clearing where so much death had occurred.

It took much longer than necessary without the proper tools, but finally each fallen soul was laid in a shallow grave. After dealing with Darius’s wounds and tying him securely to the tree he had rested against, Mefune joined Altaira and Garrett. They worked well into the night, and Altaira was ready to collapse, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave Daya behind. She stood forlornly over the grave, staring at it without really seeing. Her tears had stopped, but she felt it was simply because there weren’t any more left to cry. Her heart still ached plenty enough for the tears to fall.

Mefune stepped up next to her silently, taking her hand in his. Altaira sighed, glanced at him briefly, and then back to the makeshift grave complete with the lopsided pile of rocks to mark its location. “She deserved better than this,” she muttered. “Buried among traitors.”

“We’ll honor her properly when we get back,” he promised. She nodded, understanding there wasn’t much they could do at the moment, but it still hurt to have to leave Daya behind.

Glancing to Garrett, Mefune stated, “We should rest, figure out what to do next in the morning.”

“I second that,” Garrett agreed, sounding just as weary as Altaira felt. He was nursing some pretty serious wounds. As he limped into the forest, Mefune followed, gently guiding Altaira away from Daya’s grave.

They went just far enough that the scene of so much bloodshed was no longer in sight, and then set up camp quickly. Mefune volunteered to take first watch, and Altaira didn’t have it in her to protest. With him watching, she knew she’d sleep easily, and desperately wanted the escape sleep would bring. Hopefully, by morning, she’d somehow figure out how to function again without Daya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the chapter that urged me to mark one of the archive warnings. Sorry, not sorry. It had to be done. 
> 
> That being said, moving forward and dealing with grief is something I want to handle carefully and give an accurate representation, as best as I can. It's a hard topic but I get tired of how brushed over it is in most media. I also don't want to drag it out too much and bog down the story. So here's to hoping I can manage that. As always, any feedback is greatly appreciated!
> 
> Also, question for you: Would you mark the 'major character death' warning if a major villain died? Slightly silly question, I know, but technically they are a major character, right? Just curious what you all thought of that.


	23. The Weight of Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elinore and Densin deal with a major change.
> 
> NOTE: if you read chapters 17 and 18 before 1/29/21, you'll have to go back and read them for this chapter to make sense. I apologize for the inconvenience.

** Chapter Twenty-Three **

** The Weight of Loss **

_** Mariea ** _

The day after facing the dragon proved to be uneventful. Mae’s aura was still too tired to care for Bracken’s wounds and fully heal Mariea’s ankle, and Mariea quickly found it was way too painful to walk on, much less go hiking through the jungle. So, she reluctantly agreed to wait another day to allow herself and Bracken time to heal. Towards the end of the day, Mae worked on healing Mariea’s ankle enough she could walk, and then they called it a night.

The next morning, Mariea woke long before her companions. As she straightened, she let out a pained grunt as she discovered she was surprisingly sore. Between the fight with the dragon and sleeping on the ground with nothing but a sleeping bag to shield her from the rocks, her body wasn’t too happy with her situation.

Carefully, she extracted herself from Bracken, who was sound asleep next to her, and glanced around their camp. Mae slept on the other side of the small clearing they had made, curled up in a ball inside her sleeping bag. It was still a relief to see both of her companions alive and well, considering what they had been through. Part of her still marveled how the whole ordeal was even possible. It felt like a bizarre dream. But the minute she took a few steps, her ankle reminded her it had, in fact, been real.

It was cooler that morning—much cooler—which was a big relief. While she waited for Mae and Bracken to wake up, she carefully took stock of their supplies. To her dismay, she discovered they were dwindling fast. They only had enough for another three days on the island. They had more supplies on the boat, but they had to be saved for the return trip. If they didn’t find their answers fast, they would be forced to leave to restock and then return.

She hadn’t heard from home since she had left New York. Though she told herself it was because of the problems a glowing aura message showing up on a crowded New York street could cause, part of her worried it was actually because something had happened to them. _Maybe I should send them a message_ , she mused, remembering her promise to Ila to keep her updated. Maybe they were waiting for her to reach out. But then she frowned when she realized she had nothing positive or even remotely useful to tell them. She would wait.

Glancing back at her sleeping companions, Mariea debated waking them. She knew they were both exhausted, so she found herself reluctant to bother them. She sighed and began pacing, deciding she wanted to move around and stretch out the kinks so she’d be ready to go once everyone was awake. It took all her willpower to keep herself nearby. She didn’t want to leave them behind, but she had already waisted a day, and her patience was worn down by her nagging worry for home.

After a bit of pacing, she widened her circles a bit and actually wandered back into the settlement. Suddenly she realized she recognized where she was; they had set up camp near where the path had been that had led to the Medics’ lab. Curious, she began searching the tree line for any indication of the path.

She hadn’t gone far into the trees when she began to feel dizzy. She blinked, trying to steady herself. Suddenly she was standing in the settlement, near the busy downtown area. Time had passed, and the colony had grown immensely. The streets were now paved with cobblestone, more of the buildings seemed sturdy and well-built, and the businesses surrounding Mariea seemed to be thriving.

Mariea’s gaze rested on the nearby church, realizing it was packed. At first, she thought it was for a happy occasion, but as the scene moved her into the building, she felt the sorrow hanging over the room.

Near the front of the chapel, the governor spoke to the gathering in a soft, heavy tone. Mariea’s gaze found Elinore and Densin near the front of the room. Elinore was crying silently, clinging to Densin, who stared at the front of the room, his face a blank mask. Mariea could feel their pain. It took her a moment to understand what it was that had caused them to suffer so much, but then her gaze followed Densin’s and she saw the casket at the front of the room. Mariea quickly realized it was way too small for an adult, and a feeling of dread grew as her mind turned to the two young children of Elinore and Densin.

As the governor finished, the crowd passed by the casket one by one to pay their last respects to whoever had passed. Mareia followed with Elinore and Densin, against her will, to the casket’s side. She peered inside apprehensively, and laid eyes on the all too still form of their daughter.

* * *

_** Elinore ** _

Finally, the funeral ended. The small casket was raised from its spot, Densin and his father among the pallbearers, as well as Elinore’s father and older brother. Elinore trailed behind them with the rest of their family and friends as they carried it to the cemetery.

Once the burial was finished, the crowd slowly disappeared, but Densin lingered. Elinore wanted nothing more than to leave Amberlie’s grave behind, but he seemed to want to stay. He stared at the grave, his face a cold mask, his hands clenched into fists at his side.

When an hour passed, Elinore finally stepped up next to him, gently placing a hand on his arm. “Let’s go home,” she whispered.

He glanced at her, and then turned back to the grave, his jaw clenching as tears built in his eyes. It was the first tears he had shed since he had found her body, the first emotion he had shown. He had hardly even spoken a word since telling her what had happened. Leaning her head against his shoulder, she felt fresh tears gather in her eyes at the sight of his pain, his obvious confusion and frustration.

He cried silently for a few minutes and then dried his tears with a shaky sigh. “What happened to her wasn’t an accident,” he muttered, so softly she almost didn’t hear him.

“What do you mean?” Elinore wondered.

“She was murdered,” he continued, his voice surprisingly devoid of emotion despite the weight of his announcement.

Surprised, Elinore stayed silent for a moment, and then asked, “What makes you think that?”

“She…hadn’t passed yet when I found her.” He paused, swallowing as he fought away another bout of tears. Elinore’s sorrow deepened as she realized he had been forced to witness Amberlie’s death. “When I found her, she had wandered to the back field. Her aura was collapsing. I tried to repair it like I had others, but it was impossible. It had been destroyed, by an Aurae spell,” Densin explained quietly.

“Who would do something like this?” Elinore managed, her voice shaking with emotion as she stared at him in horror.

“That’s what I would like to know,” Densin sneered, his sorrow quickly warping into anger.

Suddenly Elinore feared that anger. “Please don’t get wrapped up in this,” she requested. “Let the Sentinels know so they can handle it.”

“I can’t tell them what I know,” Densin told her, sounding reluctant to continue.

“Why not?”

“Because…” he paused, clearly searching for words. “After I tried to repair her aura, I knew there was no way she would survive, but she was dying so slowly. She was in so much pain. She didn’t understand, kept trying to get me to help her, but there was nothing I could do. I…I couldn’t sit there and let her suffer so…I took her aura to end it.”

“What?!” Elinore gasped. She couldn’t believe he had done such a thing, even if she did somewhat understand his reasoning. It was something he had promised to never do, and she couldn’t help but wonder what the ramifications of such a decision would be. And to think, he had broken that promise to take his daughter’s aura of all people. She simply couldn’t believe what he was saying was true.

“What was I supposed to do?” he protested with a helpless shrug. “Even if I had gone for help, she still would have died before I made it back to the house, and she was already so scared and confused. She wasn’t going to make it. I had to, Elinore.” He ran a hand through his dark hair, fighting tears again. “All this power, and I couldn’t save her,” he muttered bitterly. “I saved thousands, but when it came to one of the people I love most, I couldn’t stop this from happening.”

Elinore bit her lip, tormented by the way he blamed himself and the realization of how Amberlie had died. “There was nothing you could do. This wasn’t your fault,” she told him.

He stayed silent, giving no indication whether or not he believed her. Eventually, he let out another sigh and muttered, “Let’s go. We still have Ansem.”

“Yeah, he’s probably going crazy waiting for us,” she said, managing a half smile as she thought of her baby boy. Her smile quickly faded when she thought of him growing up without his sister. The two had already been close, even at such a young age. She wondered if Ansem was old enough to realize she was missing.

They made their way back through town in silence, to Clare’s house. Elinore’s friend gave them a bittersweet smile and invited them in. Ansem was sitting on the floor playing with Clare’s daughter Marie.

“He was very well behaved, for how upset he was when you left him,” Clare commented.

“That’s good,” Elinore managed.

When the little boy heard her voice, his blue gaze snapped to her, and he grinned. Climbing to his feet, he tottered over to her. “Mama,” he greeted, wrapping himself around her leg. She laughed softly, bending to gather him into her arms. He giggled and squirmed, but then wrapped his little arms around her neck and snuggled closer.

Turning to Clare, she told her, “Thanks for watching him.”

“No problem. He’s a sweet boy,” Claire replied. “If you need anything else, let me know.”

“Thank you,” Elinore sighed. “It’s good the funeral is over, but…it’ll take some time.” Time to heal, time to feel like she could function without breaking into tears, time to forget the anger and pain. Time couldn’t pass fast enough, in her opinion.

Clare nodded, obviously understanding. Elinore turned to Densin, realizing he was watching her and Ansem. Something about the look in his eyes worried her, but she pushed it away as she forced a smile and told him, “Let’s go home.”

He nodded and stepped out the door. Elinore followed, waving goodbye to Clare. Falling into step next to Densin, they made their way out of town and to their farm. Once inside, Elinore paused, the feeling of something missing so overwhelming she had to bite her lip to fight more tears. The home suddenly felt so empty and quiet without the patter of her little feet and constant chatter. Setting Ansem down, Elinore headed for the kitchen, deciding she needed to keep busy. Densin disappeared into the fields behind their house, obviously with the same plan in mind.

Weeks later, things hadn’t improved much. Though Elinore was doing everything possible to move past her grief and let Amberlie rest in peace, Densin couldn’t. He almost seemed to fall deeper into his sorrow as time passed, drowning in it. He tried to act as if nothing was wrong, but his smile never reached his eyes, and he seemed to spend most of his time deep in thought, shut off from her. Nightmares tormented him frequently, and sometimes he became so angry or upset Elinore didn’t know what to do to calm him. He always showed an outpouring of love towards her and their son, but she knew he was still hurting. It frustrated her to no end there wasn’t anything she could do about it.

One day, he left to go into town, looking to sell some of their crops. He promised to be back before nightfall, but, as dark came, he didn’t return. She tried messaging him, but he didn’t answer. After putting Ansem to bed, she decided to wait up for him, figuring he wouldn’t be much longer. A few more hours passed as she dozed periodically in the rocking chair by the fire. Finally, she gave up her vigil when she became too exhausted, but she hardly slept, too worried for Densin to relax.

The next morning, soon after she had sat down to eat breakfast, he walked in, looking tired but well. She sighed in relief, hurrying to him. After a quick hug, she asked, “What happened? Where were you?”

“I’m alright,” he reassured her. “I just got sidetracked and it ended up very late before I realized how much time had passed. I figured it was better to just stay in town instead of trying to make my way back in the dark. I was going to send you a message but got caught up in things and forgot. I’m sorry.”

She managed a smile, grateful to hear nothing had happened to him, but she still found the whole ordeal odd. “It’s okay. It’s just…not like you to disappear like that, so I was worried,” she said, before heading back to the table and her forgotten oatmeal. “Are you hungry? I made breakfast.”

“Yeah,” he admitted, joining her at the table.

She grabbed another bowl from the cabinet behind her and served him some of the oatmeal from the pot on the stove. “What were you doing that kept you out so long?” she wondered as she handed it to him.

“I…ran into an old friend,” Densin began as he started into his breakfast. “We were talking for a while. When I told him about Amberlie, he asked me to allow him to buy me dinner. He couldn’t think of any other way to offer help, but wanted to do something, so I accepted. It took longer than I expected. He let me stay the night at his place.”

“Ah,” Elinore muttered, picking at her breakfast, her appetite mysteriously absent. Eventually she gave up and started cleaning up. “Well, at least it was something good that kept you for so long.” Though she felt slightly relieved, something still seemed off, but she had no idea what. It nagged at her as he moved on, making it hard for her to concentrate as he told her about his successful sell and his plans for next year’s planting. Even as the day went on, the strangely uncomfortable feeling lingered, especially when he was near. It made no sense whatsoever, but she just couldn’t shake it.

They settled into their usual routine for a week, and she was able to push her worry from her mind for a time. But then he went to town and didn’t return after nightfall again, and all of her worries returned. This time, he did warn her he might be late, but for some reason it didn’t calm her nerves.

But as time went on and he spent more and more time away, she fell into a weary acceptance of the absences, deciding he might just need his space for a time. It did seem to be helping him a bit—after the absences, he seemed more like himself for a time. As much as she didn’t like not knowing what was going on, she didn’t pry, figuring he would talk when he was ready.

Later, she would wish she had asked. As time moved on, he slowly began to change. Though there were brief moments where he seemed more clear-minded, his slowly became fixated on finding the man who had killed Amberlie, and willing to do anything to see her death avenged. Elinore watched, helpless, as his grief slowly consumed him a little bit at a time, leaving an angry, hollow shell. He refused to tell her what he was doing when he disappeared, and he refused to use his aura around her. She figured it was because he was ashamed of taking Amberlie’s aura, but it almost seemed irrational just how much he kept it hidden. She couldn’t even begin to consider any other possible explanation.

And her unease around him only grew. She couldn’t explain it, but he made her nervous. She guessed it was his erratic behavior. She told herself he wasn’t a danger to her or Ansem, but at this point, she couldn’t even guarantee that.

As things continued to digress with him, rumors from town slowly began to reach Elinore. Reports of mysterious attacks. Unexplainable deaths, some of which the medics were calling murders. A sense of uneasiness settled over town, and Elinore withdrew, spending more and more time at home.

By the time six months had passed since Amberlie’s death, she had become so accustomed to Densin not being around that she often lost track of how long it had been since she had last seen him. A part of her worried there would be a day he simply never returned, even though he promised he would come back before each time he left.

So when he appeared in her doorway late one afternoon after being absent for nearly a month, she stopped dead in her tracks, at first unable to recognize him. He was filthy, and a deep cut ran along his cheek. There were what looked like burn marks on his arm, and she couldn’t decide if the dark patch on the side of his shirt was grime or dried blood. Despite his horrid condition, there was a smug triumph in his eyes.

“Densin…what in the world happened to you?” she managed.

“I found him, Elinore,” he stated softly, his gaze slightly unfocused. “I found the man that killed our daughter.”

Elinore’s breath caught in her throat, and she found she couldn’t speak for a few moments, dreading the next question she would have to ask. “And…what happened when you found him?”

“He’s dead,” he stated, his words entirely lacking any emotion. There was no remorse, but there was no pride either. It was simply a fact.

“Densin,” Elinore breathed, wanting to reprimand him for what he had done, but she was too afraid of how he would react to finish her sentence. “Why did you do it?” she finally managed.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Densin stated, his eyes flashing with deep hatred. “He was dangerous. She wasn’t the only one he had killed. He had to pay for what he did. Nobody else would do anything about it, so I handled it myself. He deserved to die.”

Elinore’s hands clenched into fists at her side as her fear grew. Her husband was many things, but cruel had never been one of them. But that was the only word to describe what she saw in him now.

“It wasn’t your place,” she told him.

His anger only increased as his gaze snapped to her. She couldn’t ever remember a time he had been angry with her. Sure, they had disagreed from time to time as all married couples did, but he had never grown angry. Never raised his voice.

“I did it for you, and Ansem, Elinore!” He snapped. “He could have come to finish off the rest of the family. I couldn’t let that happen! I couldn’t lose you too.” He paused, taking a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “It’s over now. You’re safe. I’ve guaranteed that, and that monster can never hurt anyone again.”

She swallowed back her first response, wanting to point out how he wasn’t any better than the murderer. Or, that he had nearly lost them anyway, by entirely withdrawing from their lives.

She sighed, searching for a better response, when suddenly Ansem tottered up to her. “Momma, up,” he pleaded, tugging on her skirt. As she bent to pick him up, she couldn’t help but be amazed by the fear she saw in his wide blue eyes. Around his small hands, thin wisps of his recently found indigo aura appeared, reacting to his fear. He tucked his head underneath her chin, curling up into a ball in her arms. To her amazement, she realized he was trembling.

“What’s gotten into him?” Densin wondered, echoing her own thoughts. Looking to him, she noticed something of the Densin she knew and loved shone from underneath the grime as concern for his son brought him back to reality.

“I don’t know,” she replied, giving the small child a reassuring pat on the back.

Densin took a few steps forward, his eyes on their child as if he meant to comfort him. The minute Ansem noticed Densin approaching, he buried his face against Elinore’s chest, whimpering quietly, his trembling increasing.

Densin stopped in his tracks, horror written all over his expression. Then his shoulders slumped. “Guess I deserve this. I have been staying away a lot lately. He’s probably forgotten who I am,” he muttered.

“Or maybe he just doesn’t recognize you under all that filth,” Elinore pointed out.

Densin sighed. “Maybe,” he muttered. “I’ll go clean up.” He disappeared into the washroom attached to their bedroom. Elinore heard the sound of water being poured into the wash basin as she moved to sit in the rocking chair. She cradled her son close, rocking gently, until he relaxed and dozed, his head resting on her shoulder. As she trailed a hand over his back soothingly, she couldn’t help but wonder just what about the child’s father was more terrifying—how he looked, or what he was slowly becoming.

She placed Ansem in his crib after a moment more, allowing him to sleep. After a few more hours, she retired as well, not sure she really wanted to spend any more time than necessary in Densin’s presence. But, as he joined her, something of her fear melted away, and she allowed herself to remember what life had been like, and to relive that memory for just a little while.

She hadn’t slept for long when suddenly she was jerked awake by Ansem’s terrified screams. She shot up, startled and disoriented, before realizing it was just him. He had never suffered from nightmares before, sleeping soundly through the night despite his young age.

Densin awoke when she did, looking around in confusion, thin wisps of his aura appearing around his hands as it reacted to his surprise. That’s when she noticed the change. His aura was a dark, ugly green-brown. She stared at it, knowing when his aura interacted with others, it would change colors because of the graft, but never had she seen it so dark. Usually, the color faded quickly.

Feeling his gaze on her, she glanced up to his face. He eyed her carefully, his expression guarded, but there was a hint of disappointment to it. Then Ansem let out another cry. Silently, he stood and went to the boy, lifting him from his crib.

This almost seemed to upset the child more, his screams no more frantic as he squirmed against his father’s grasp. Elinore hurried to him, taking him from Densin. Suddenly, she wondered if she knew what it was about Densin that terrified Ansem so much.

In her arms, his cries slowly subsided. Elinore paced, giving her an excuse to turn away from Densin so he couldn’t see the anger in her eyes, but she figured he would pick up on it nonetheless.

“What is it, Elinore? Why are you so upset?” he asked softly, as she had expected he would. She could imagine his shoulders slumping, his gaze unfocused as he looked her way, searching for answers, but part of her refused to give them.

But she had to know if her suspicions were correct. “Why is your aura different?” she snapped, her words harsher than she meant. Ansem squirmed in her arms, disturbed slightly by the harsh words.

“I tried to keep it from you. I didn’t want you to worry,” he sighed, avoiding her question.

She turned back to the crib, placing Ansem down now that he was fast asleep again. Then, she grabbed Densin by the wrist and pulled him through the house and outside where they wouldn’t disturb their son.

“Not worry?” she snapped, turning on Densin as she folded her arms against her chest. “How did you expect me to not worry? You’ve basically disappeared, cutting me out of your life, and for what? So you could seek your revenge? I doubt that’s what Amberlie would have wanted.”

“She was four. She wouldn’t have understood,” Densin deadpanned as he stared at her with a mix of disdain and frustration.

“I don’t understand!” she countered, throwing her hands in the air in frustration. Then she locked gazes with him, daring him to turn away, to lie to her. “You took that man’s aura. The one who killed Amberlie. And others, too, if I’m not mistaken.”

His hands tightened into fists at his side, but his expression didn’t change. “I did,” he stated flatly, with the same dismissive tone he had used when he had first announced the murder he had committed.

“You promised me you wouldn’t use your aura like that,” she reminded him, her voice cold as her anger cooled to despair and disbelief.

He shrugged, as if it was that easy to dismiss. “Things change. Amberlie’s death makes everything different. He had to suffer as I had, and that was the easiest way. The others were…unforeseen consequences.”

“You chose to allow her death to change things. It didn’t have to be this way,” she argued, but she felt her words fell on deaf ears. 

He let out an annoyed huff. “Do you think I wanted this to happen? That I wanted Amberlie to die? I didn’t choose this.”

“That’s not what I said,” she corrected with a shake of her head. “Whatever you’re feeling because of Amberlie’s death is understandable, but you shouldn’t have used it as an excuse to give in to the temptation to abuse the power of your aura. It was meant for good, Densin. Now you’ve corrupted it.”

“What do you know about it?” he growled.

“I helped make it, remember?” she spat. “I was there, while I watched you use it to heal hundreds. Thousands, even. That’s the man I fell in love with. Not this! What you have done has changed you, Densin, and I’m not sure I can stand it!”

He shook his head, running his hands through his hair as he turned away from her a moment, clearly trying to calm down before he responded.

“I’m trying, Elinore,” he finally stated, and his words were so heavy, she felt her anger fade a bit. “You don’t have to carry this burden. I’ve been trying, so hard. But I couldn’t do it anymore. I lost everything when Amberlie died. My daughter was gone and with her my happiness. My control. You want to know why I keep away? Because I didn’t want to accidentally steal your aura when I was too deep in my anger or grief to realize what I was doing. And now Ansem’s aura is visible. I figured, if…if the man who killed Amberlie died, maybe some of this pain would go away, and I could keep things under control again.”

She watched him for a moment in silence, finally seeing his weariness, a bone-deep exhaustion that weighed him down, shook his resolve, and clouded his judgment. “Did it help?” she wondered softly.

He shrugged slightly. “I honestly don’t know if anything can help me now,” he muttered.

“Maybe letting Amberlie go would,” she suggested.

He stared at her, and she could see the conflict in his gaze, could see how desperately he wanted to cling to her even after so much time had passed. He let out a shaky sigh, his gaze dropping to the ground. “I don’t know how to.”

“Let me help you,” she offered, taking a step closer. “Densin, we were supposed to face this together. Like we promised each other. Remember? I still hold to our vows. I’m here for you. But you can’t keep shutting me out.”

He met her gaze, his eyes bright with unshed tears, and nodded heavily. “I’m sorry. I let…everything get out of hand. I…I’ll try again.”

The last of her anger faded, and she closed the gap between them. He caught her in a hug, gripping her tightly with the desperation of someone terrified to let go, and she relished in it, intending to never let him get so far away again.

After a long moment, she sighed as she pulled away slightly and said, “We never did tell the medics about the side affects of the graft. Maybe we should have. Maybe we should now.”

He nodded, his gaze on the ground. “I realize that now. For some reason, I just…didn’t want to. Neither did any of the others. In the morning, let’s fix that. Will you come with me?”

She nodded, elated he already seemed willing to involve her more. “Of course. I’m here for you,” she promised.

He smiled, and then gently pulled her towards the house. “Come on. It’s late. Let’s go back to bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is also one of the reasons why I added the archive warning. I've debated actually writing out Amberlie's death from Densin's POV, but it just wouldn't make sense for Mariea to be able to see any of that. Maybe I'll post it as a separate thing once I'm finished uploading this. Would anyone be interested in reading it? Let me know!


	24. The Doushidok

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elinore deals with Densin's issues.

** Chapter Twenty-Four **

** the Katarab **

_** Elinore ** _

The next morning, Elinore woke to find Densin missing. The last bit of grogginess clearly left her and she quickly climbed from bed to search the house, wondering what had changed since last night. She searched the whole dwelling, but couldn’t find him anywhere. Deciding she wasn’t sure she trusted him to be alone after last night’s conversation, she gathered Ansem and quickly took him to her parent’s house, and started for the town to search for him.

She hadn’t quite reached the town when she heard a scream and paused. Another echoed through the air, followed by others. Rushing forward the remaining distance into the town, Elinore searched for the source of the screams, and was met by chaos.

People scattered through the streets, running in all different directions. There was so much going on at once, it was hard to follow what was happening, or who or what they were running from. It took a moment for her to process there were others chasing them. At first, she was left to wonder who in the world was causing such a scene, until she sensed their auras—they felt just like Densin’s. Her mouth fell open with surprise, and she shook her head, unable to contemplate what was happening, even as her aura rose around her instinctively to protect her.

A woman tripped in front of her, letting out a terrified squeal as she tried to scramble back to her feet, but she kept getting tangled in the fabric of her dress. Elinore stared down at her, too dazed to decide what she could do to help. Finally, her body responded to the weak signals her brain was sending, and she moved to help the fallen woman. But she was too late; the rogue Aurae chasing her caught up to them, and in an instant and a flash of color, the woman’s aura was gone.

The murderer turned her gaze on Elinore, and suddenly she found herself running for her life as well. With no idea how to protect herself against their power, she knew her only chance was to stay far enough away they couldn’t take her aura. She dashed through the streets, her skirts clutched in her hands to prevent her from tripping as she desperately tried to outrun her pursuer.

Suddenly someone pulled her roughly from her path, steadied her against the wall of a building, and then stepped around her to deal a deadly blow to the woman who chased her. She disappeared in a flash and falling ashes.

Elinore stared at the spot where she had been, her eyes wide and unfocused, as she struggled to catch her breath. Then, she finally tore her gaze to her benefactor, who approached her with a look of concern. Recognizing the uniform of a Sentinel, some of her fear fading a bit, knowing she’d be safe in his company.

“What’s happening?” She demanded.

“There’s been an uprising,” he replied, his gaze searching their surroundings warily. “Those that received the graft a few summers ago have been…hunting other Auraes. At first, it was subtle, and we were trying to contain it, but something changed last night and, well…this happened.” He gestured at the chaos just beyond their little alley. Then he turned to her, obviously noting her dazed expression. “You should head somewhere safe. I can escort you.”

Elinore immediately thought of Densin and couldn’t help but wonder if he was somehow a part of it all. Then she considered what she knew of his aura, and subsequently all of them like him. Blinking away her confusion, she met his gaze. “No, I don’t want to hide. I know these people. Let me help,” she requested.

The Sentinel eyed her for a moment, clearly debating how wise it would be to allow her to act on her request. Then he sighed. “I’ll take you to headquarters. Amon will want to hear what you have to say.” Recognizing the name of the head Sentinel, Elinore nodded, feeling slightly relieved he had agreed.

He motioned for her to follow, and they made their way through the streets. The rogue Auraes left them alone long enough Elinore was beginning to think they would make it to their destination unhindered. But it seemed she had relaxed her guard too soon—one lunged from the shadows of a side street, attempting to tackle her companion. They wrestled for a moment, before the Sentinel managed to kick the other man away, and then sent a blast of energy after him. The man danced away from it, moving faster than Elinore thought possible, but the Sentinel quickly pursued. She watched, unsure how best to help, or if she should get involved at all.

Then, another snuck up behind the Sentinel, and with a greed-filled grin, he began stealing the other man’s aura. Realizing the Sentinel was powerless to stop it, Elinore called her aura to light in a split-second decision and sent a blast of energy towards their enemy. The blast forced their attacker to let go of the Sentinel’s aura to deflect her power. The Sentinel had passed out, so when the two assailants closed in, she stepped in to fight both of them. Despite her fear, she simply acted on instinct, managing to protect herself and her companion, and even gain the upper hand against her enemies.

Finally, she managed to end the life of one of their assailants, and the other fled. She stumbled to a halt to lean against the nearest building, her breath coming in gasps and her stomach nauseated by the fact that hose had been forced to kill. Thankfully, the man’s body had disappeared the minute he had died, turning to a pile of ash. It was a welcome surprise, leaving no reminders of what had happened, but Elinore couldn’t help but wonder what caused it.

Turning back to the Sentinel, she discovered he was coherent and carefully pushing himself to her feet. “Are you alright?” she asked as she moved to help him stand.

He nodded, grimacing. “I’ll live.” He stood carefully, Elinore staying close to steady him if needed. “You fought well,” he told her. “Thank you for your assistance.”

She gave him a weak smile. “I did what I could.”

He motioned for her to follow, and they made their way carefully through town, keeping to the backstreets to try and prevent drawing attention to themselves. Her companion’s aura was too weak to fight now, and she wasn’t sure what she would do if she had to kill again.

Finally, he stopped before a building near the town square; it bore the logo of the Sentinels, making Elinore realize they had reached their headquarters. Two guards stood near the door, dressed in full battle armor—a sight worth seeing. They were both intimidating and regal, a haunting mix that made Elinore glad they were on her side. They watched the pair from underneath their helmets carefully.

The Sentinel she was accompanying stepped inside. Beyond the doorway was a wide, open room. People rushed past, but a few gazes turned to the pair. A woman rushed up, dressed in the same uniform as the man. “Al, what happened?” she gasped.

“Just ran into…one of them. I’ll live, I’m just exhausted.” After a pause, he added, “What are we calling them now?”

“The Doushidok,” the woman replied as she approached. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Dou…” Elinore muttered, translating the Shidokian word to English. “Changed aura?”

The woman glanced to Elinore, seeming to notice her for the first time. “Basically,” she confirmed with a small nod. Her gaze on Al again, she asked, “Who’s she?”

“Actually, I never caught her name,” Al admitted, looking a bit surprised. Their gazes turned to her.

“Elinore Remar,” she supplied.

“Elinore. Nice to meet you. I’m Charlotte, and this is Alphonse.” Glancing back to Alphonse, she asked, “I can’t help but wonder, why did you bring her here? It’s not safe.”

Plopping down into the nearest chair, Alphonse sighed and ran a tired hand over his face. “She said she had information about the Doushidok. Something we could use.”

Charlotte turned to Elinore, looking slightly surprised. “How did you come by this information?” she wondered.

“My husband…” Elinore started, but paused, unable to classify him in the same group as those attacking the colony. “…has an aura like theirs. He told me some things.”

The woman nodded slowly, her gaze sympathetic. “I’m sorry,” she commented softly.

“Sorry about what?” Elinore asked, confused.

“If he is one of the Doushidok, he’s no doubt involved in all of this,” she explained regretfully. “None of them seem to be listening to reason. Half the colony has turned against us, killing friends and loved ones blindly. We don’t understand what happened.”

Elinore’s brow furrowed in annoyance. “He’s not…” she began, but then her voice faded as her mind trailed back to their conversation from the night before. His aura was so dark. What if he had been helping, somehow?

Charlotte seemed to follow her train of thought as she watched her reaction, and gave her a sympathetic smile. “Either way, we’re grateful you’re willing to help us. You should speak to Amon right away. I could show you to him,” she offered.

Elinore nodded, deciding she would just have to sort out Densin’s place in the mess later. “Lead the way then.”

The two women made their way deeper into the busy headquarters. Charlotte led her to a larger man in the center of the chaos. He had a carefully trimmed beard and his hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. Despite how he whirled around, responding to a thousand questions and barking orders in response, he didn’t seem the least bit frayed—clearly, he was in his element.

He glanced over his shoulder as the two women approached. “I thought I sensed an unfamiliar aura. Elinore, isn’t it?”

“How did you…” Elinore muttered, taken off guard, but he was distracted again, listening to a man reporting about a fire that had started near the town square.

Charlotte leaned closer, as if letting her in on a well-guarded secret, and muttered, “He can basically sense everything that goes on in this building and with any of the Sentinels. It’s one of the many abilities of the head Sentinel.”

“Oh,” Elinore muttered. Amon turned back to her, giving her an expectant look, as if he had never turned away and was still waiting for her to answer his question. “Well yes, that’s my name,” she confirmed awkwardly.

“Good, good. Tell me what you know about the Doushidok. Do you know why they’re attacking us? And how are they so strong? Does it have to do with why their auras feel so foul? Are they using some sort of dark magic?” His questions came so fast, it took Elinore a moment to process them all.

“They…their…how much do you know about the graft that modified their auras?” she asked.

“They were designed to allow them access to others’ auras to they could repair and heal them of the plague,” Amon answered.

“Right. And to do so, they were given the ability to basically hold someone’s aura in theirs,” Elinore added. “Since gaining this ability, they’ve all been haunted by…this temptation.” She frowned slightly, her gaze unfocused as she remembered what Densin had shared with her.

“Temptation? What could you possibly mean by that?” Amon wondered, his curiosity only growing.

“They…they could absorb the aura they held, making their aura stronger,” Elinore continued. “But to do so would kill the person they took the aura from. The urge is always there, and nothing really satisfies it. So they’re attacking people for their auras.”

For some reason it was difficult for Elinore to admit that was what was happening, which surprised her. Maybe it was because she had known it was a problem all along and hadn’t done anything about it. Or maybe it was because she had watched the darkness consume her husband. The idea of all of them wrapped by the same anger and pain she had seen in Densin made her sick.

“Which would explain the deaths we’ve noticed, of people whose auras have suddenly disappeared,” Amon mused, breaking Elinore from her thoughts. “Why hasn’t this problem been mentioned before?”

“I…I don’t know,” Elinore muttered, feeling heat rise to her face slightly at the wave of shame his question brought on. She realized then just how guilty she was for the mess they were in. Why hadn’t she been more insistant that Densin sought out help? And why had he resisted so much?

“The longer this goes on the stronger they get,” Charlotte added, pulling her from her thoughts. “We have to stop them before they become too powerful. They may be faster, but other than the Sentinels that turned against us, we’re the better fighters. If we could just defend against their ability to steal our auras, we would stand a chance.”

Amon nodded, and then turned to Elinore. “Do you have any idea how to go about doing that?”

“I…” Elinore murmured. “I’ve never had to think about it before, but…I bet if we could learn more about the Magics imbedded in the graft that allowed it to manipulate others’ auras in the first place, we might be able to learn more about how to defend against it.”

“Sounds like a good start,” Amon agreed. Turning to the other Sentinel, he instructed, “Charlotte, round up a team. I need you to find Joseph Redro, Sariah Ashcroft, and Andrew Griesenbeck.”

Charlotte nodded. “Find them, bring them back in one piece. Got it,” she told Amon, giving a small salute as she hurried away.

Amon turned back to Elinore. “I overheard you talking about your husband being one of them. This must be hard for you. Thank you for being willing to help despite that fact,” he complimented, the same look of sympathy in his gaze that she had seen in Charlotte’s moments before.

Once again, Elinore opened her mouth to protest, but found she had no words to defend Densin. She simply nodded, her gaze falling to the ground. Amon gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder before stepping past her. Elinore watched him go, and then sought out a quiet spot in the building. Once she was alone, she tried to send a message to Densin, but he didn’t answer. A dark feeling settled in the pit of her stomach, making her feel sick. _Where are you Densin?_ She wondered.

An hour later, Amon received a message from Charlotte. He invited Elinore to join him as he stepped up to it and tapped the smooth surface. The orb expanded, and an image of Charlotte dyed in the same purple tint appeared before them.

“How goes the mission?” Amon asked.

“Somewhat good,” Charlotte replied cautiously, and then flinched as what sounded distinctively like an explosion echoed behind her. “We found Sariah and Andrew, but Andrew is badly injured. Joseph’s dead; we found his body. Sariah’s working on getting Andrew back on his feet, but his injuries are pretty bad. We’re surrounded inside a barn on the edge of town. I think the Doushidok know these Medics have information we need. They’re trying their hardest to take them out.” Another explosion shook the building, and Elinore caught bits of yelled warnings. Looking desperate, Charlotte cursed under her breath. “Reinforcements would be nice. Got to go!” With that, the image blinked from existence.

“Wait, Charlotte!” Amon protested, reaching a hand for her even as she disappeared. He scowled, resting his bearded chin in his hand. “Hmm. We’ll have to assist her,” he muttered after a moment. Then, glancing over his shoulder at Elinore, he added, “And I want you to come with me.”

“Me?” Elinore gasped. “I’m no Sentinel.” The very thought of venturing out into the battle torn streets made her stomach twist into sickening knots.

He nodded. “That may be true, but you know what these people are capable of, and you fought like a Sentinel against them with Alphonse. We’re way outmatched as it is. We need people like you.”

Elinore sighed. As much as she dreaded the fighting, she knew he was right, and couldn’t push away his call for help. “Fine. I’ll come with you. But I can’t promise I’ll be of any help in this situation. I’m not used to fighting,” she warned.

“We’re all fighters now by circumstance. Whatever you can manage will be enough,” Amon reassured her. He hurried away, calling over his shoulder for her to wait by the door.

As she stood in silence for him to return, she couldn’t help but think of a similar situation where someone had asked something of her she thought she couldn’t do; once, she had been asked to help while Andrew had grafted the cure to Densin’s aura. In that moment, everything about their lives had changed. Suddenly she regretted it all. _If we had known this is what it would lead to, would we have gone through with the grafts?_ She wondered. At the time, it had been their only solution, and things had been desperate enough, she wondered if they would have had time to find another option before they would have all perished from the plague. _It’s almost as if we were doomed no matter what we did._

Amon reappeared, followed by three other Sentinels, so Elinore forced herself to focus on the present. They were all dressed in aura-crafted armor. Pointing to them, Amon introduced, “This is Gideon, Benedict, and Jessamine.”

She nodded a brief greeting to them, and then turned back to him. “This is all you’re bringing?”

“It’s all we can spare. We’re going to have to take them from the guard of headquarters, and if this place falls, we lose the Magics that unites us. We will lose the battle if we allow that to happen.” Elinore nodded, understanding his hesitation.

“Is she going with us?” Jessamine asked, looking doubtful. Amon nodded, seeming slightly confused she was questioning the idea. “If she goes out dressed like that, it’ll paint a target on her back. She looks like a normal civilian,” Jessamine pointed out.

“Hmm. I didn’t think of that,” Amon muttered, glancing towards Elinore, his eyes taking in her dirty dress and frizzy hair. Suddenly she was self-conscious under his gaze. “Grab her a spare uniform. It’ll have to do.”

Jessamine nodded and hurried off, before returning with a neatly folded Sentinel uniform and a pair of boots. She handed them to Elinore while Amon told her, “We don’t have time to teach you the Magics to create armor, but this’ll at least protect you better than a dress, and deflect extra unwanted attention.” She took the uniform in her hands, hoping she didn’t look as surprised as she felt. Amon jerked a thumb over his shoulder as he added, “There’s a closet over there. Change quickly.”

Elinore managed a weak nod as she made her way to the closet, deciding she didn’t have the energy to protest. Changing quickly in the dark proved difficult, but she managed. She pulled the uniform on, which surprisingly fit her well. The pants were tight but flexible, far from what she was used to, and the top had a high collar and square shoulders. Both were made of a thick, sturdy material, giving her a sense of protection, even if it was just basic. She could sense the magic in the uniform, and knew it would absorb more power than it looked capable of taking. She pulled her feet into the boots and quickly tied her hair back into a bun to keep it out of her way. Without a mirror, she could only guess what effect the uniform had on her, but she hoped it made her look more powerful than she felt. 

Stepping from the closet, she rejoined the group. “There, that’s better,” Jessamine commented with a small smile.

“Alright, we need to get to Charlotte’s team quickly. The two Medics with them are top priority. We must get them back here in one piece,” Amon explained quickly, and then with a wave of his hand, they started out.

The streets were as much of a mess as Elinore remembered, but now a thick fog had rolled in from the ocean, shrouding everything in shadows. For a while, they passed through the town unhindered, and Elinore was given a moment to take in the carnage; several buildings were on fire, and bodies littered the streets, more than Elinore was willing to or could ever count. A cold silence fell over them, the horror of their surroundings hushing any sort of conversation that may have passed between them.

As they neared the barn, they met with resistance. The little group was almost overwhelmed, but the Sentinels fought with such strength and determination, Elinore took courage, and did what she could to help. Finally, they pushed their way into the barn. They found the remaining Sentinels from Charlotte’s team crowded in the back of the barn, surrounding Sariah.

Amon moved to speak with his team, so Elinore turned to Sariah. She seemed worn and full of sorrow, something that was becoming a common element in Elinore’s life. Kneeling next to the other woman, she told her, “We’re here to help.”

“Elinore,” Sariah greeted, leaving Elinore surprised she remembered her. “It’s good to see a familiar face. I didn’t know you joined the Sentinels.”

It took Elinore a second to follow her comment, until she remembered the uniform she was wearing. “It’s…sort of unofficial,” she replied sheepishly.

Sariah managed a weary half smile. “Well, the uniform looks good on you.”

Elinore returned her smile, grateful for her support. “How’s Andrew?” she asked, turning back to the task at hand.

The Medic’s smile faded, and she glanced to the ground. “I couldn’t save him. His injuries were too severe, even for me. He was practically already gone when we found him. I did what I could to ease his passing, but…” She sighed heavily.

Resting a hand on Sariah’s shoulder, Elinore muttered, “We’ll fix this. His death won’t be in vain.”

“He died thinking he was responsible for all this. We both are. We made the Doushidok,” she griped, the self-loathing thick in her words.

“No,” Elinore argued. “Don’t blame yourself. You did what you had to in order to save those you loved.”

Sariah shrugged wearily, unable to be comforted. “But at what cost? Most of them died anyway.”

Before Elinore could fully contemplate that statement, Jessamine interrupted. “We need to get out of here. The wounded have been identified. Sariah, can you help them?”

“I’ll try,” the Medic promised, standing.

“We’ll hold the enemy back until you finish,” Jessamine promised. The Medic got to work, even as the Sentinels continued to battle the Doushidok. As she finished doing all she could for those that had been injured, the group prepared to head out.

They poured from the barn, the Sentinels surrounding Sariah. The older woman flinched away from the carnage, and Elinore couldn’t help but feel the same way; outside was crowded by many desperate people, magic flashing everywhere as they clashed, the smell of fire and the screams of the injured filling the air. Unfazed, the Sentinels jumped into the battle, pushing back the remaining Doushidok that clambered at the barn. As their enemies fell, they turned towards the town center, ready to start back.

They hadn’t traveled more than a block when suddenly Amon halted, raising a hand for everyone to pause. Elinore followed his gaze, wondering what had caused him to stop. A lone figure approached through the fog, and though she couldn’t yet see him entirely, she could sense his amazing power, wanting to shrink away from it. Then he stepped through the thickest of the fog, suddenly becoming clearer. Elinore’s gaze widened as she met a pair of familiar gray eyes, feeling as though someone had slammed her to the ground, knocking the air out of her and leaving her dazed and in pain.

_Densin._

The Sentinels tensed, watching him approach carefully. He eyed them with a level of contempt and disgust Elinore had never seen in him. His aura swirled around him, but it was unrecognizable; it seemed formed of living shadows, and the light it gave off was weak and harsh.

“Running away so soon?” he called to the Sentinels, the faintest smile curling the corner of his lips, sending shivers down Elinore’s spine.

“That’s their leader,” one Sentinel hissed, surprising Elinore. The group reacted immediately, their auras appearing around them, ready to defend themselves from Densin, but before they could attack, she quickly stepped forward, putting herself between them.

“Wait,” she ordered, grateful her voice didn’t give out on her despite how it felt her throat was being squeezed shut. “I know him. Let me handle this.” She met Amon’s gaze, and suddenly he seemed to understand.

With a half nod, he commanded, “Let her take this one.”

Elinore turned back to Densin, taking a cautious half step towards him. He watched her, his gaze devoid of emotion, feeling nothing for her. She paused, staring at him through the fog, the battle fading from her attention.

“You know, I could kill that entire group with a simple wave of my hand,” Densin informed her casually.

“I don’t doubt that you could,” Elinore admitted. “Your aura has become quite powerful.”

He flashed her a malicious grin. “I’m glad you noticed.”

“Why are you doing this?” She asked.

His grin faded, and she saw a brief shadow of the man she had married, like a silhouette hidden under the surface of the monster before her. “I did it because I had to. You would never understand; you were too blind to see what needed to happen.”

“But what about last night? I thought…I really thought you meant it when you said you were going to try harder to be a better person,” she stated, trying not to sound like she was pleading.

“That’s just it—it made me realize this was necessary. You and Ansem would never be safe, and we’d never be able to move on, until they were all gone.”

“They? They who?” Elinore wondered, bewildered an unable to comprehend how he had come to this conclusion.

“The Auraes,” he stated.

She stared at him, dumbfounded, and then stated, “Densin, _you’re_ an Aurae.”

He shook his head. “Not anymore. Haven’t you heard what they’ve been calling us? Doushidok—it’s a surprisingly fitting name, don’t you think? We are changed. And for the better.”

She shook her head, wanting to argue that this was definitely not an improvement, but she realized she would get nowhere with that line of thought. “I can’t let you do this. I can’t let you kill so many innocent people.”

For the briefest second, he looked conflicted, but then his expression hardened into a cold mask, his eyes glinting dangerously. “I still love you, but if you stand in my way, I will do what I must.”

She swallowed hard, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. If he had dealt her a physical blow, she guessed it would hurt less than the pain that erupted in her heart. Her whole body stiffened, her hands clenched into fists. “Then…so will I,” she whispered, unable to find the strength to say it louder, but she somehow held her head high nonetheless.

He hesitated a brief moment, and she wondered if maybe something she had said had reached him. Then he sneered and sent a wave of power towards them, stronger than she could ever imagine, more than she could ever defend against. She felt the magic in her armor react to shield her, and her aura did as well, but to her surprise, the darkness bent to avoid her, rippling instead towards those behind her. She heard their screams as if they were far away, everything moving in slow motion. As the magic faded, she slowly turned, taking in their fallen forms, in how still they were. _Are they all…dead?_ She wondered.

Realizing she had left herself vulnerable, Elinore quickly turned back to Densin, but she was surprised to find he was gone. She looked around for him for a moment, but found no traces of him. She was about to follow after him, when she heard a pained grunt from behind her.

Looking back, she realized one of the Sentinels were still alive; Gideon sat up carefully, wincing as he aggravated obvious wounds. Amon stirred as well, but didn’t rise from the ground, letting out a pained moan. Relief flooded Elinore, even as she took in the rest of the fallen. Then Sariah pushed herself free from underneath Jessamine’s smoking form, standing carefully. Elinore quickly realized Jessamine had sacrificed herself to protect Sariah, giving them one last chance to win.

Elinore hurried to her. “Are you alright?” she asked. Sariah nodded numbly, her gaze on Jessamine’s body, her eyes wide.

Gideon limped to the two women. “We need to move, quickly.”

“Amon’s hurt bad,” Sariah whispered, sensing what neither of them could see. “Let me help him first.”

“There’s no time,” Gideon replied, though he sounded reluctant to leave behind his commander.

“Please. We need all the help we can get,” Sariah pleaded.

“Tell us how we can stop these things first, then you can heal all the wounded that you can manage,” Elinore promised.

Sariah glanced between the two, then to the ground. “When the idea for the graft first…came to me, I knew there was something wrong about it. I could sense it. But I was so desperate for answers, I ignored the warning signs. Luckily, I at least had enough sense to design a failsafe over the years; it’s a prison of sorts, tied to their auras and powerful enough to hold them for centuries. All that needs to be done is say the final spells to enclose them, and they’ll be trapped for as long as the Magics will last. But the only problem is…these spells are so strong, no aura could survive creating them.”

Feeling something of a sense of relief settling over her, Elinore immediately volunteered, “I’ll do it. If I perish, so be it.”

Sariah studied her carefully, and then nodded. In as much detail as she could manage, she explained the magic needed. Elinore listened, acceptance of her fate settling over her. It would be a painful end, she realized, but it hardly mattered. She deserved to pay the ultimate price for the part she had played in all of this.

As Sariah finished, she turned to Gideon and told him, “Get her to safety.”

“What about you? Will you be alright on your own?” he asked.

“Yes. I just…need to do one thing, before I finish the magic,” she told him.

“You want to find him,” Gideon stated. She nodded. “I can help,” he told her, surprising her. He closed his eyes and his aura surrounded him brightly for a few moments, and then he stated, “He…went to a farm, on the outskirts of town.”

“He went home?” Elinore muttered under her breath, surprised. She considered that for a moment, wondering what he intended to there for a moment, but then she realized she was waiting valuable time. To Gideon, she stated, “Thank you. Good luck, both of you.”

“You as well,” he told her with a nod, respect in his gaze. She stood quickly, feeling she did not deserve his admiration, and turned towards home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter posted!
> 
> If anyone cares, a song I listened to frequently when brainstorming scenes for these later visions was 'Still Here' by Digital Daggers. It fits Elinore and Densin's story so well.


	25. The Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mariea learns.

** Chapter Twenty-Five **

** The Shadow **

_** Elinore ** _

It took some time for Elinore to make it back to her home. On more than one occasion, she was forced to contend with the Doushidok, but once she made it past the town line and started up the simple dirt path that lead to the farm, she was left with only her thoughts as company.

Approaching her home was surprisingly hard. The burden of what she was about to do weighed on her shoulders so heavily it was almost too much to carry. She knew he was there waiting for her. She wasn’t sure what had possessed him to wait, but she was grateful for it. Part of her knew there was no reason why she needed to be with him to complete Sariah’s prison, but she wanted to see him, one last time.

Stepping into the building, she scanned the living room, attempting not to see the home she loved, but there was no escaping the memories that flooded her mind. It filled her with nostalgia as she longed for the days when it had been a happy home, but they were gone, and she was resigned to that fact. Nothing could bring them back, no more than stop the aching in her heart.

Then her gaze found Densin in the kitchen, leaning against the kitchen counter as if he had been waiting for her, his gaze on the small window across from him. He didn’t turn to her as he commented, “I knew you would come.”

“I had to,” she replied.

“Where’s Ansem?” He asked.

“Safe,” she responded vaguely, wondering if the boy was why he had returned. She could only hope he and her parents were alright.

There was a pause, and then Densin finally looked up to meet her gaze. “Did you come to kill me?” Even if she had a reply, Elinore found it impossible to speak, the cold realization of what she had come to do hitting her like a slap to the face.

He smiled softly as he straightened, his aura appearing around him, sending shivers down her spine. “Let’s get on with it then,” he stated softly.

“Densin, no, I didn’t come to kill you. I came to help you,” she blurted out, suddenly finding her voice again. He froze, surprised. “I love you. I don’t care about anything else. As long as we’re safe, and together, nothing else matters to me.”

He blinked, and then his aura disappeared as he dropped his guard. He stepped closer, and she closed the gap between them, embracing him, her heart aching. Then he kissed her, and she allowed him to, responding to his touch with a bittersweet passion she couldn’t control, as she knew it was the last time she would feel him close, the last time he would love her.

Then she pulled away slightly, just enough that she could whisper, “I love you.”

“I…” he started, but then she began the spells as her aura flashed to life around her. The magic caught him so quickly he had no chance to react, his aura wrapped in her power. He stumbled away, collapsing to his knees and clutching at his chest as if she had stabbed him. It surprised her, but it was a welcome relief; there was no way she could have brought herself to fight him if he had resisted. The pain of betrayal filled his eyes as he watched her crafting the spells, using every last drop of her strength. Her aura strained to keep up with her demands, but she pushed onward, refusing to allow her own weakness to get in the way of her task.

As the spells continued, her aura expanded around her with a blast, rippling through the small room and causing slight damage. She could feel the spells reaching out, finding the Doushidok one at a time, slowly catching them as it had Densin.

“Elinore, stop!” Densin growled, infuriated, but he couldn’t harm her, she knew that.

Meeting his gaze, she paused, knowing she had precious moments before her aura was exhausted and she perished. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face now. She muttered the last few words and the spells finished, clicking into place with such power and finality she almost heard it.

And then he was gone. She knew the rest of his kind went with him, locked in the prison she had created. Silence filled the house, interrupted only by her quiet sobs and the racing of her heart as it fought to keep up with the demands she had placed upon her body. Her aura sparked and fizzled around her, barely still in existence. As her legs gave out, she crashed to the ground, numbly aware of the pain in her knees. The world was darkening around the edges, and she knew she would pass out. Whether or not she awoke again, she wasn’t sure, nor did she care.

But there was one last thing she had to do before she could allow herself to collapse into the all too welcome darkness. Though the spells would hold Densin and his kind for many years to come, she wasn’t sure if there were any survivors on the island. She had to guarantee someone would know of the prison and could be ready to rebuild it before the spells collapsed and allowed the evil it contained to enter the world again.

Bringing her fading aura to light once more, she added another spell. With it went the last of her strength, but she refused to let go until it was finished. She was too weak to create a proper message, but the images and the emotion she poured into it would suffice. She had to believe that. As the spell was finished, she thought of who to send it to, how to guarantee it would actually reach someone. She thought of Ansem and, deciding it was the only sure way she could guarantee her message would make it safely, she linked it to her bloodline, hoping the boy had survived the nonsense of the day.

Finally, as her aura blinked from life and she was engulfed in the most unholy pain she had ever felt, she allowed herself to let go and sink into the darkness.

* * *

_** Mariea ** _

_Mariea stood over the remains of the island settlement. She watched the few survivors gather and then leave the island behind, Elinore’s son among them. On a second, familiar island, they found refuge with another colony of Auraes. Then, deep in the forests of that island, Mariea saw a simple door frame appear, mist the color of Elinore’s aura surrounding it for a brief moment before dissipating. Mariea could sense that beyond the doorway—which would be invisible to the naked eye—laid the prison Elinore had created._

_Time continued forward. Years upon years, passing faster now, and Mariea watched the prison. It left the island for a time, appearing in random places throughout the world, and then settled in New York, where it remained for a long time, invisible to the world. It was so subtle at first, but suddenly she realized the spells were starting to deteriorate. When she saw the first of the Tarapor, and soon after that the distinctively clad members of the Brotherhood, Mariea realized time was nearing the present. Things continued forward. After a while, the door returned to the island, and she saw glimpses of people she knew. It was on Raidenya._

_Then she found herself approaching the door, an ominous feeling settling over her. She was drawn to the doorway uncontrollably, her feet taking steps she wished they wouldn’t. As she paused before it, she studied its rippling surface, sensing just beyond a growing darkness that was much stronger than it had been when the prison had first formed, terrifying Mariea with its presence._

_Suddenly a hand shot through the doorway, grasping at her with clawed fingers. She stumbled backwards, surprise making her heart skip a beat. The hand disappeared, replaced seconds later by a being with the aura of a Doushidok. He dragged himself free of the spells’ control, dark energy crackling over his pale skin as the spells tried one last time to hold him and his kind in place. Mariea stumbled away, fearing the man, but then she turned to her aura, ready to defend herself. To her dismay, it refused to come to light, leaving her helpless. She ran, instinct kicking in to keep her alive. She ran for her home, hunting for its safety, but as she neared the edge of the city, she stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes widening in fear._

_Before her, Raidenya burned, and those she loved perished as the darkness clawed its way through everything she knew. She heard their screams and the crackling of fire, the acrid smoke rising from the buildings stinging her lungs and eyes. But what was worse was watching their suffering with no way to help. She tried to hide from it, to turn away, but couldn’t get her body to respond. A cold sweat broke out over her skin, and she thought she would cry, but instead she felt herself go numb with shock, her mind unable to process what she was seeing, to accept it as reality._

_Then a cold hand wrapped around her shoulder and turned her around. She looked up into the face of a man that wasn’t much more than a shadow with a grin. She tried to struggle away, to escape, her heart racing in her chest, her eyes wide in horror. But it wouldn’t let go, its grip on her like steal. She was engulfed in pain as the shadows pierced her and she plunged into darkness._

Snapping upright, Mariea let out a shrill scream. She looked around, panting, realizing she was alone in the jungle outside the settlement, but her body refused to acknowledge that the horrors were gone. She pulled her knees to her chest, resting her head in her hands, trying to steady her breathing and racing heart. Tears threatened to spill over, the residual emotions from the vision so potent it was as if she had actually watched her home burn.

“There you are,” she heard from above her, but she didn’t have the strength to lift her head, to afraid to face reality quite yet. Bracken knelt next to her, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Mariea, are you alright?”

She finally straightened and attempted to wipe away her tears. “I…I just…another vision—that one was…it shook me up a bit,” she stumbled, attempting to explain, her voice shaking from fear and unshed tears.

He pulled her to him, and she allowed herself to attempt to hide from the nightmarish images, but she couldn’t stop running them over and over again in her mind. Suddenly, it dawned on her that she had been the one to receive Elinore’s warning. _The prison must be ready to open._

She quickly climbed to her feet, pulling from Bracken’s embrace. He stood with her, looking concerned and at least a bit confused. “I need to get a message to Ila immediately,” she told him. She felt guilty leaving him in the dark, but it was the only explanation she felt she had time to spare for.

Her aura came to light as she quickly crafted a messenger spell, pouring all the knowledge she had learned into it, her haste and anxiety deepening the color of the spell. Mariea knew Ila would sense her distress and may be bothered by it, but decided it was a good thing. The quicker the other Aurae acted, the better.

As she finished, Bracken stepped up next to her. “So…you want to explain what’s happening?” he requested gently.

She turned to him, her blue eyes wide with fear and her aura still surrounding her. Briefly, she explained the prison, what it contained, and how the spells were weakening. “When that thing opens, the Doushidok will be released on our home. They could kill everyone. I watched them do it.” His eyes widened as she explained and he paled considerably.

Shaking her head, she swallowed hard and added, “Bracken, we’re on the brink of a war we’re far from prepared for. We have to get back, now. It may already be too late.”

He nodded slightly, slowly processing what she was saying, and then turned and started back through the streets. Mariea and Mae followed, rushing through the burnt-out town, Mariea’s heart racing from the pace and from her fear. She had to get back. She was haunted by images of Elinore’s home in flames, and her own home, mimicking the past.

_I can’t let that happen again._

** END OF BOOK ONE **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that concludes book one! I can't believe I've finally uploaded the entire thing. Now that the story is over, what did you think?
> 
> Book two is in final draft stage. I intend to start uploading it within the next year. In total, the series will be at least three if not four books long. Once I have them all plotted out, I intend to attempt to publish them. I'm just undecided how I want to go about it. So stay tuned for more information about that!
> 
> Also, I noticed now that I'm finished posting all these chapters, I'm very inconsistent on whether I italicized the little intro/exit scenes from Mariea's POV before and after visions or dreams. What did you prefer?


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